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LITERARY REMINISCENCES 



Ain> 



MEMOIRS 



OF 



THOMAS CAMPBELL, 

AUTHOR OF ''THE PLEASURES OF HOPE," 

Ac. &o. 



BT 

CTRTJIS REDDING, 

AirrHOB at "vtm yeabs' KROoujtoxioNa, ixivBua and 

PBBSOKAI^" too. 



IN TWO VOLUMES. 
VOL. I. 



LONDON- 
CHARLES J. SKEET, PUBLISHER, 

10, KING WILLIAM 8TSEET, 
OHABnrO 0SOS8. 

186a 



^/^. cL. f 




BiUing, Printer, 106, Hatton Garden, London, and Gvildfbrd, Surrey. 



TO THE READER. 



" Public men can scarcely be described with 
impartiality by cotemporaries, they can only 
add their personal knowledge to that of 
others," wrote one who had some experience 
in the literary world. There is much truth 
in the remark. Time must lessen the tendency 
to panegyric or censure, before impartiality 
can be maintained, and the future writer 
select from the different personal statements 
which he finds transmitted to his hands, those 
facts upon which he can deliver to the world 
that final biography, which shall stand the 
test of impartial criticism. In regard to 
autobiography, on which so many place im- 
plicit credit, it is best designated in its con- 
nexion with impartiality, by the proverb, " it 



IV TO TBB READIB. 

is a sorry bird that fouls its own nest." For 
one writer who states the truth of himself, is 
independent of self-love, and cold upon the 
subject, in which the indulgence of warmth 
is most venial, there are ten who conceal, dis- 
colour, or favour themselves, results as conse- 
quential in human character as the vanity that 
is more or less a part of the common nature of 
mankind. 

No more is intended in the present volumes 
than to aid in recording some remembrances 
of one of our best poets, during an inter- 
val of time when he was in the height of his 
reputation, and when nO one except the 
writer possessed the means of observing his 
progress, for many consecutive years of un- 
interrupted and exclusive literary confidence. 
In this record the writer has endeavoured 
to he impartial, to detail faults as well 
as virtues, when no motive for discolouring 
facts can possibly exist, death having' 
shrouded in impervious darkness all of a 



TO TH2 RBADER. V 

distinguished man of g^ius but his poetical 
labours. 

It was at the request of several persons 
numbered among the friends of Campbell, 
and not of bis own aecord alone, that the 
writer collected some of his notes, published 
before, relative to the poet, and made the ad- 
ditions found in these pages. In the few notes 
put together by the poet himself, just before 
his decease, in which memory and judgment 
seem too often at fault, written many years 
subsequent to the period to which these pages 
more directly refer, there is an absence of the 
characteristics of the better part of his career, 
and incidents are misrepresented, marking too 
strongly the inconsistency of our common 
nature in ripening the genius of one distin- 
guished individual at a period before that of 
another is matured. In one case maintaining 
it to the last hour of the longest life, and in 
another making its intensity disappear before 
the middle age of humanity. 



Tl TO THE REAUEE. 

This work then is contributive to the labour 
of the future biographer, communicating in- 
cidents and characteristics avulable from 
no other source. The author only hopes 
that those whose art. Dr. Johnson tells the 
world, " is a study by which men grow im- 
portant and formidable at a very small ex- 
pense," will consider that his aim has not 
been to do that which is reserved for some 
future pen, but to supply what no one else 
could g^ve in relation to a poet whose works 
are imperishable, and whose history on that 
account cannot fail to interest the present time, 
and will still more interest posterity. 



I 



CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 



CHAPTEE L PAGE 

Birth of Campbell* — Hia boyhood. — Conduct at 
school. — ^Verses on a parrot. — Lampoons his school- 
fellows. — Tedious sermons, " the good old way." — 
Ghuns a Leighton Bursary in Glasgow TJniyersity. 
— Bears off prizes. — His great progress in the Greek 
tongue. — ^Attachment to the Uniyersity. — His ad- 
miration of Dr. Millar. — Trials of Gerald, Muir, 
and Palmer. — Accepts a tutorship in the Isle of 
Mull.— Betums to Glasgow.--" The Pleasures ofS( 
Hope."— Blemishes in that poem*— Tribute to Dr, 

' Anderson 1 



CHAPTEE n. 

Campbell leaves Edinburgh for Germany. — ^Acquaint- 
ances at Hamburgh. — Klopstock. — ^Lines to the 
/ Jewess of Altona.— Visits Gottingen. — Introduc- 
tion to the Schlegels.-^ Journey to Munich. — The 
^ Field of Hohenlinden.— Begins a new poem called 
The Queen of the North."—- Beturns to Scotland. 



« 



)^ 



Vlll CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

— Seizure of his papers. — Voyage to Liverpool. 
— Dr. Carrie and Mr. Sosooe. — ^Beaches London 
with letters of introduction from Dr. Cnrrie. — Anec- 
dote of the Poet. — Quarto edition of his Poems. — 
Love Verses. — ^Letter to the Poet from Mr. Boscoe. 48 



CHAPTEE nL 



Alterations and corrections in different poems. — The 
poet at Sydenham. — Mode of study. — Opinion upon 
the pronunciation of the ancient languages. — Mr. 
Thomas Hill and his symposia. — ^Dinner-parties. — 
Anecdote of Campbell and Leyden. — Composition of 
V the poefs odes.— Lord Brougham's censure of the 

^ poet. — Its utter want of foundation. — Errors in 

y criticism. — Charge of jealousy of Dryden unfounded. 

X — Gertrude of Wyoming. — ^Mr. Homer's opinion of 
that poem.— Its favourable reception by the critics. ^ 

y —Defects in the poem,— Its excellences pre-emi- 
nent 70 

CHAPTEB IV. 

Campbdl^ introductioii to Byron. — ^Lectures stthe 
Boyal Institation. -^AnalysiB of their nature. — 

< First, poetiy in general.— Second, Hebrew poetry. 
— Third, Greek poetry.— -Fourth, Classical poetry. 
— FifUi, Lyric and Epic poetry. — Sixth, Oracular 
poetry. — Seyenth, called by Campbell the Ninth, 
the Athenian drama.—- Tenth and last, Euripides . 97 

CHAPTEB V. 



SpeecmenB of tlie BriliA Poets undertaken. — The 
Essay on Boetry.^Cei»ute«0f Bowles. — ^Discus- 
sions it ptOToked.*^Pa]!ties inrolred in the contest, 
of tiie "Xnrariable Phninple6."«-Joke 



A 



CONTENTS. IX 

FAOB 

on the term by the Poet—He reviBits Germany 
and the ScUegels.-- Engages to become Editor of 
the IS'ew Monthly Magazine. — History, of that 
publication. — Campbell's Editorship. — Takes Lon- 
don lodgings. «— Commencement of his Editorial 
dnties.— -His first contributions .... 138 

CHAPTEE VI. 

Bias of the Poet's studies. — Hebrew researches. — 
Visit to Mr. Murray of Albemarle Street. — In^ 
tended Magazine. — The Poet's jest. — Politics of the 

.--'•New Monthly." — Epitaph sent by Canning. — 
Blunder about Canning's letter. — Belzoni's introduc- 
tion to the Poet. — ^Early contributions. — Blanco 
White. — Henry Matthews. — Ugo Foscolo's break- 
fast 172 

CHAPTEE Vn. 

Conduct of the new work under Campbell. — ^Augustus 
William Schlegel. -— Literary dinner. — Singular 
dispute, and Schlegel's victory. — ^Anecdote of the 
East India Company. — The anonymous contributor. 
— The poetry of Johns. — Sotheby. — The preface. — 
The Queen's case. — Shield Curran, Banim, Gbrattan, 
Sullivan, Emerson Tennant. -— Song written at 

. Sydenham. — The Poet's alterations. — - Campbell's 
feelings in regard to Sir Walter Scott . . . 201 

CHAPTEE Vni. 

Illness of the Poet's son.— Contributors to the Maga- 
zine, Graham and Hazlitt. — American Literature. 
— Compliment to Sogers. — ^Visit to Cheltenham. 
/^ — Letters respecting "Theodoric." — Criticism on 
/^Medwin's book about Byron ...... 235 

VOL. I. b 



2 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

history. In military life^ in the perils of adventure, 
in the toils of the bar, in the triumphs of the senate, 
or excellence in any other pursuit, by which men 
attain distinction, actions speak. The mental 
peculiarities of literary men displayed in their 
productions, linked with feeling, fix the attention, 
and interesting the heart, belong to a differenc 
order of things. If less exciting at the moment, 
the effects are more permanent. They increase 
with time, while the most splendid achievements, 
as those of the field, continually lessen in me- 
mory, because they create only a momentary 
admiration, while that which affects the heart, 
felt to be a part of our nature, is for all time. 

m 

This is more particularly the case with the poet 
constituted by genius, " that power without which 
judgment is cold, and knowledge inert; the 
energy which collects, combines, amplifies, and 
animates.'' Thus having enlisted on its side the 
better sympathies, the biography of the poet has 
a strong hold upon the minds of all men. There 
are times when even matter-of-fact personages 
are awakened by writers of imagination to that 
ideal, in which the shows of things are accom- 
modated to the desires of the mind. If this be 
doubted, it is only to refer to the past, to the con- 
tinual disquisitions on the works of the poets, on 
Dante, Petrarch, Tasso, Alfieri and their succes- 



i^. 



LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND MEMOIRS 



or 



THOMAS CAMPBELL 



CHAPTER I. 



Birtb of Campbell. — His boyhood. — Condact at school. — 
Yenes on a parrot-^LampoonB his schoolfellows. — 
Tedious sennons, " the good old way." — Gains a Leigh- 
ton Bnrsary in Glasgow University. — ^Bears off prizes. — 
His great progress in the Greek tongue. — Attachment 
to the University. — His admiration of Dr. Millar. — 
Trials of Gerald, Muir, and Palmer. — Acoepts a tutor- 
ship in the Isle of Mull. — ^fietums to Glasgow.—" The 
Pleasures of Hope." — Blemishes in that poem. — Tribute 
to Dr. Anderson. 

jHE biography of literary men must be 
sought in their works, " La vie d'un seden- 
taire est dans ses ecrits." ^^ The life of a 
student is in his writings,'' observedVoltaire. These 
must supply the place of stirring incidents in his 

VOL. I. B 




m--^ 



4 LITERARY REMINISCBKCBS AND 

" where Scotch mists prevailed half the year/' 
The error probably arose from the statement of 
an individual who had visited a hamlet at Knap- 
dale^ and was there erroneously inffrmed that the 
poet had been bom in a particular hamlet situated 
in a spot of great beauty^ amid wild and roman- 
tic scenery, a spot the poet had, it is true, visited, 
in his numerous youthful excursions, near Loch 
Awe, in Argyleshire, and on which he afterwards 
wrote the verses upon the dwelling of the Camp- 
bells, beginning :— 

" All rained and wild is their roofless abode." 

Campbell too would often joke at the expense 
of the lowlanders, extolling their brethren of the 
mountains, and drawing inferences to their dis- 
advantage. In this he alluded most probably to 
his descent, not to his own particular birth-place. 
However that may be, his birth at Glasgow is 
certain, as it was thus comfirmed by himself. ; 

The poet was the son of Alexander Campbell^ 
the latest born of three brothers^ sons of Archi- 
bald Campbell, of Kiernan, or Kirnan, for it 
has been spelled bo& ways. That place de- 
scended to Robert, the eldest son of Archibald, 
who sold it to become a resident in London. The 
second son was a clergyman in the West Indies, 
and died in Virginia, leaving his property to his 



wamm 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 



5 



relatives^ of which between four and five thousand 
pounds came to the poet.* 

Before settling as a merchant in Glasgow^ Alex- 
ander Campbell had been a . merchant in the 
United States. On his return he entered into 
partnership with an individual of the same name, 
but unconnected in relationship, whose sister, 
Margaret, aged twenty, the poet's father married 
in 1766, being then nearly thirty years older. 
The business of the partnership seems to have 
flourished until the disruption of the colonies, 
with which it principally traded, when the house 
failed, with others similarly connected. This 
happened in 1775. The poet told the present 
writer, that his father was attentive to business, 
and possessed great good sense, but made no 
profession of any literary acquirements ; that his 
manners were bland and engaging, and that he 
was a religious man. Mrs. Campbell, the poet's 
mother, seemed in the marriage state to have been 
a woman of much decision of character, and to 
have ruled her household with great prudence, 
and a determination of wiU that was not to be 
questioned. In her person she was spare, not 
handsome, but pleasing; dark of complexion. 



* On the authority of Thomas Pringle, who collected on 
the spot all he could ascertain regarding the poet, before 
he left England for the Cape. 



6 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

keen^ and bore a kindly character among her 
friends, and those with whom she associated. She 
died in 1812, aged seventy-six, surviving her 
husband eleven years, the latter having paid the 
debt of nature at Edinburgh^ in March^ 1801^ at 
the age of ninety-one. 

The parents of the poet had eleven children ; 
one son, named Daniel^ died in a state of infancy. 
There were seven other sons — ^Archibald, Alex- 
ander, John, Robert^ James^ Daniel^ the second 
of the name^ and Thomas^ the poet. The 
daughters were three, namely, Mary, Isabella, 
and Elizabeth. Mary^ the eldest^ died in Edin- 
burgh in 1843, aged eighty-six: Elizabeth and 
Isabella died in the same city, the first aged sixty- 
four, in 1829, and Isabella, in 1837, aged seventy- 
nine. Of the sons, James was drowned in the 
Clyde while bathing, in 1783 ; John, a settler in 
Demerara, died there in 1806 ; Kobert went to 
America, became a merchant there, married a 
daughter of Patrick Henry, and died in 1807 ; 
Alexander went to Berbice as a settler, and re- 
turning from thence to Glasgow, died there in 
1836; Daniel became a cotton manufacturer in 
Glasgow, &om whence, owing to ill success, he 
went to France, and undertook the management 
of a cotton manufactory at Rouen. An idle resi- 
dent there in 1816, for five or six months, it is 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 7 

singular, among the few English in the city at the 
moment, I did not encounter him. If still alive, 
he must be now (1859) in his eighty-sixth year. 
Thomas, the poet, came into the world after him, 
as one bom out of due season, his father being 
then sixty-seven, and his mother about thirty- 
seven. He informed the present narrator that his 
father was bom in 1710. Observing a portrait in 
the poet's study set on edge upon the floor, he said 
it was that of his father. It carried the resem- 
blance of a venerable man in old-fashioned cos- 
tume, and wearing a wig. There was not the 
remotest resemblance in the picture to the poet, 
though in personal appearance it had been reported 
like him ; which, on remarking, he admitted he 
could not see himself. On observing that it 
did not look like a man of ninety years of age, he 
said he did not know at what period of his father's 
life it was taken, which might account for the 
impress of so great an age not being visible in 
the portrait. It seemed as if there was little he 
remembered about his family. Of his mother I 
never heard him speak. The love of the bye- 
gone in his life had apparently no charm for him, 
although now and then a chance anecdote of his 
college days would come *up, and be repeated 
with a melancholy pleasure. But this was only 
when recalled by some analogous incident re- 



8 LITSRAET REMINISCENCES AND 

lated by another, as if it had recalled what he 
had well nigh forgotten. To the remark about 
his father's age^ he said if it were a rule that 
a long life was inherited, he might expect it with 
some reason, for that, adding his birthday to his 
father's, only a year or two were wanting to divide 
four generations between them, reckoning them 
at thirty years^ and his own age at forty-eight* 

He spoke to the writer regarding his father as 
being no churl ; and once of his grandfather, in 
connection with the country. He said that he was 
told by his father they lived a social life in the olden 
days, and that no wine but claret was consumed 
in Scotland in his grandfather's time ; that the 
quantity drunk was so great, that they used to 
fence round their gardens and orchards with the 
staves of the hogsheads ; and that, in the times 
alluded to, which would be about the close of the 
seventeenth century, there was great sociality and 
much convivial living in Scotland. 

It is not the least painful of our reflections that 
time so rapidly places human action beyond the 
reach of oral testimony. The celebrity of the 
poet may yet cause a scanty survivor — the com- 
panion of his earlier years — to disclose some 
incident floating in memory regarding this period 
of his life, to gratify curiosity ; but even this is 

• In 1825. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 9 

a dubious expectation. , It is more probable we 
know^ at present^ all thai can be known regarding 
a poet, who, if the standard of our poetical lite- 
rature should again attain the proud superiority 
of the past, will not be placed out of his proper 
position among the more eminent, who at present 
are as " caviar to the general.'* 

Young Campbell was christened by Dr. Eeid, 
Professor of Moral Philosophy in Glasgow Col- 
lege, and named Thomas, after the same Professor. 
A sister, nineteen years his senior, taught him to 
read. He was the favourite child of his parents, 
more beloved, perhaps, from being the latest 
ofi&pring. When he first went to school, his 
father assisted him in his studies^ He was placed 
under Dr. Alison in 1785, a master celebrated for 
his assiduity and an improved mode of classical 
instruction. 

At school there is reason to think that, like the 
majority of those subsequently most distinguished 
for excelling in other things besides poetry, he 
could not be brought exactly within that me- 
chanical routine of learning which the pedagogue 
delights to honour. He is reported to have been, 
if not an idle boy, which from his progress would 
hardly be credible^ though it is on record— -yet one 
who would only learn by fits and starts, as he felt 
it congenial to his inclination ; in fact, capable of 



10 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

anything under unfettered application. To one 
of his temperament, mechanical routine was not 
congenial, if he might be judged of regarding his 
youth by his habits of study when a man. To 
apply, when the mental bias is against applica- 
tion, at the will of a controlling authority, has 
long deprived of the character of " good boys 
at school" those who have had the finest capacity 
for any kind of learning. Genius is a free plant, 
and will not be forced. Byron was idle, but 
could make up three days' work in one at any 
time when he was inclined to do it. Sheridan 
would not work at all. " He was an enemy to 
all constraint," it was said of Cowley, " and that 
his master never could prevail upon him to learn 
the rules out of book/' yet at ten years of age he 
wrote the '* History of Pyramus and Thisbe," 
and published a volume of poems at fifteen. 
Campbell's progress was triumphant; but the 
mode in which he worked it out, with his supe- 

• 

rior talent, was no doubt a consequence of his 
being left in a great measure to take his own way 
in imbibing the elements of learning ; the sagacity 
of Dr. Alison, who had broken away from the old 
monkish system 'of teaching, discovered his pupil's 
peculiar disposition. Campbell was therefore no 
exception . to the rule that has been observed to , 
hold good with so many distinguished names. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 11 

Certain verses by Campbell, on a parrot's 
death — some have said his first attempt at rhyme 
— will at least bear a comparison with those of 
Johnson upon his duck; the last^ indeed^ con- 
cludes with a piece of very boyish information ; 
but the lexicographer was^ after all^ no great 
poet. The concluding lines of Campbell's juvenile 
performance have not a much higher claim to 
poetical merit. They were long extant in the 
large boyish hand of their author. It is a sin- 
gular coincidence that Campbell's firsts and one 
of his last compositions, amid bodily decline^ and 
no slight loss of poetical efficiency^ should be 
lines on a parrot. The first were naturally crude^ 
the last showed that^ unlike Waller, it could not 
be said of him, ^^ it was impossible to distinguish 
between what he wrote at eighteen and what he 
wrote at eighty" — such are the diversities of 
genius ! Some of these lines upon the parrot^ 
written and circulated in the poef s eleventh year, 
in 1788, are as follow. They are entitled *' An 
Elegy on PoU^ written on the death of a School- 
master's favourite parrot :"♦ 

" Melpomene, thou queen of tears. 
Attend my dirge of woe, * 
Nor blush with hannony to deck 
My numbers as they flow. 

♦ Given the writer, with various other early pieces of 



12 UTKRAV^T BSMIKI8GS9GBS AKB 



Ploor Pofl «M but aa iKwritf joj, 

A gift 800O to deoj — 
EmUemof all oar eartiilj UisB, 

Tliat only knte a day. 

Hie dmt of death ia poor Paa^a heart. 

Poor Irrine he dolh CTf : 
' O, my the day of the year be daik 

Oa whiA my PdU did die !"* 



Ac Ac 



What a Tsst difference in merit between these 
finesandthe ** Pleasures of Hope !** yet they serre 
to show the changes genius and ten years may 
effisct in the day-spring of life. These were 
not equal to Pope's Ode on Solitude^ written 
under twebre years of age. He was attached to 
his Greek School translations beyond their merit, 
perhaps because he excelled in such translations 
afterwards^ at the uniyersity. 

Ae poet, by Thomas Pringle, vho poaBesaed many others 
of the poefa ehildiah venea and exeraaea. SeYenJofhia 
better poema, pnfalkhed in Ae fint edition of hia **Jl iw M 
woika, in ISSS, were lozniehed to me by Pringfe, the poet 
having no eopieay and not knowing where they were to be 
foond. The fonaer had treaaored them in Seotland in hia 
early daja. There aeem to hare been difler ent Tcxaiona 
of dut. Several oUieta of hia yontiilnl effbakma are 
extant, but none of aaymaik, to ezdte anipnae, being 
■eareely wortiiy of record. Some of them bare been re- 
corded by hia executor, Br. Beattie. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 13 

Campbell himself once stated tliat he began his 
poetic career^ correctly speakings with some Ossi- 
anic verses^ called " Morven and Fillan^" in the 
year 1791^ which were printed at the joint expense 
of his schoolfellows^ when he was thirteen years of 
age ; that at fifteen he wrote a poem on ^' Marie 
Antoinette, Queen of France," published in the 
Glasgow Courier; that at eighteen he printed 
his elegy called " Love and Madness ;" and before 
he had completed his twenty-second year, his 
^^ Pleasures of Hope.*' There is a story current, 
on the authority of Gait, an authority yefy dubi- 
ous, owing to his general inaccuracies, that the 
boys paid some ridiculous trifle in order to have 
their schoolfellow's poem in print, and that the 
'* Pleasures of Hope" was first published by 
subscription, he. Gait, being one of the sub- 
scribers. The utter want of truth in the latter 
part of this statement will presently be made 
manifest. 

At school Campbell was not a little inclined to 
boyish mischief, upon his own testimony. He 
lampooned some of his schoolfellows. Talking 
on one occasion of school days, when he was 
spending an hour at the house of a mutual Mend, 
Dr. Evans, at Hampstead, he said that at school 
both himself and his comrades wrote soDgs, and 
sometimes lampoons, and used to sing them after 



14 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

their own fashion to any tune that would apply. 
This was considered very objectionable in those 
days^ when the' Scotch were more "rigidly 
righteous" than they find it conyenient to be in 
these innoyating times. The boys were much tor- 
mented by the length of the sermons of a graye 
diyine^ who not only bored them into weariness 
upon points of doctrine of which they could com- 
prehend nothing, but spun his discourses out to 
an unbearable longitude. At length the whim 
came into their heads to turn him into ridicule^ 
out of reyenge. In his sermons there was no end 
to the repetition of the phrase, " the good old 
way/' in the manner of recommendation to his 
hearers *' to keep in the good old way/' to remem- 
ber '*the good old way." Whateyer was the 
text, the preacher was certain to drag in these 
words oyer and oyer again. This was so promi- 
nent a feature in the good minister's deliyery, 
that no one could misunderstand his identity 
upon repeating the phrase. The poet and his 
schoolfellows therefore wrote a song — most pro- 
bably the whole was Campbell's — in which, seizing 
upon the obnoxious phrase, they made it the 
burden of their yerse, and identified the minister 
with the ridicule. There was a sort of chorus 
appended to each stanza : — ^ 

" O, there's nothing like the merry, merry good old way." 



MEMOIRS OP THOMAS CAMPBELL. 15 

The parson had married a young wife. The 
poet had the lines still in memory : — 

" We wish him well for old and new, 
For good King David, people say, 
He only copies to be true, 
To the good old way, 
To the good old way, 
O, there's nothing like the merry, merry good old way ! 

* So, for another Shunamite 

He hunts the city day by day, 
To warm his chilly veins at night. 
In the good old way, 
• In the good old way, 
O, there's nothing like the merry, merry good old way \" 

According to the poet's own statement, he ran 
a little wild at times with his fellow- students^ 
occasionally treating the kirk with no great 
reverence among themselves^ though grave and 
becomings as in duty bound, before their supe- 
riors. Once or twice, notwithstanding, he did 
not escape sharp rebukes. 

From the boys of the school the lines went over 
the city, that in those days did not approach, in 
extent and population, what it is at present. The 
minister was greeted with exclamations about the 
'^ merry good old way '* where he little expected 
the salutation. *' But," added the poet, " it did 
not suffice to turn him out of the ^ old way ;' he 



16 LTERAHT REMINISCENCES AND 

continued to annoy us as much as ever with his 
long sermons and wearisome repetitions. A great 
noise was made about our want of duty towards 
the godly man, and we were pronounced incor- 
rigible, profane scoundrels altogether,! because 
the authors of the song were not given up. We 
repaid this censure by an increased impatience at 
long sermons, and by other boyish revenge of 
the same nature/' 

At thirteen Campbell gained a Leighton bur- 
sary in Glasgow university, in competition with a 
candidate far above his own age. Spurred on 
by a feeling of the necessity for exertion on 
account of his narrow circumstances, he laboured 
hard, and the success excited a spirit of emulation 
to exert himself still more. He annually bore 
off prizes, while his efforts in the Greek tongue 
were fully as successful as those in the Latin had 
been. Tet his efforts appear to have been 
irregular — at one time strenuous, at another lax. 
He carried off one prize for a translation of the 
"Clouds" of Aristophanes. His success here 
was most probably the reason that induced him 
to publish subsequently the translaticms from 
Tyrtaeus, Alcman, and Medea, which appeared in 
his works following the '^ Pleasures of Hope," 
in the earlier editions of that poem. Though as 
youthful efforts, they are of a character to merit 



MEMOIRS OP THOMAS CAMPBELL. 17 

praise ; yet^ in comparison with what he gave to 
the world in English poetry, they cannot be 
estimated proportionably high. The versions of 
Polwhele and of Pye are equal to them in merit, 
and in some parts more literal. When the first 
collected edition of his poems was published, 
which took place during the last illness of his 
wife, it was proposed to place these translations 
last of all in the two volumes of which that 
edition was composed, but their author would not 
agree to it, and they were placed at the end of 
the first.* When the cheap edition, in 1839, 
was put together, Campbell brought them back 
himself still nearer to the " Pleasures of Hope." 
It was probable that they dwelt agreeably in his 
memory, and he felt no inclination to treat them 
slightingly, for he was governed in such cases by 
sensibility rather than by his reason, however 
sufiicing. The value set by authors upon their 
literary progeny is no criterion of sterling worth. 
Milton preferred '* Paradise Regained'' to " Pa- 
radise Lost." Campbell may stand excused for 
cherishing impressions which had gathered 
strength by time, and were of an enduring cha- 

* The first collected edition, published by Colbum, 
1828. The illness of Mrs. Campbell prostrating the poet, 
as seen in the sequel, they were edited by the present 
writer. 

VOL. I. C 



18 LITERARY REMINTSCENCSS AND 

racter. If not as meritorious as they might 
have been, they were embalmed in memory as 
youthful triumphs. This may be judged from 
his frequent allusions to the Greek lyric poets 
afterwards both in writing and conversation. 

The time he passed at the university the poet 
always mentioned with affectionate feeling in 
later life. The season of study depending now 
more upoqi his own volition and the moment 
when the mind is in a proper tune^ than upon 
compulsory efforts, when labour is under the 
constraint of another will, he made a progress 
proportionably rapid. His earlier success seems 
to have given him a predilection for classical 
learning. . When he had acquired the German, 
he read all the German critics upon the classics 
of Greece and Rome, and continued to read all 
that was published new regarding them, to the 
very last. Except metaphysics and biblical lite- 
rature, he at one time neglected almost every 
other topic. The geography of the ancients, for 
example, he knew more accurately than that of 
the modems. A continued attachment to that 
which in youth was most gratifying to us, is 
natural to our self-love as well as to our general 
humanity ; besides, bur predilections, whether for 
good or evil, we owe to early impressions. His 
studies at the university were severe, and at one 



HEMOIBS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 19 

time affected his healthy for he had to giye ele- 
mentary instruction to the younger class — thus 
teaching others while learning himself. 

It is on record^ though not perhaps singular, 
that the poet kept so close to his favourite studies 
as to neglect many branches of information, in 
which it would not be expected he was so little 
informed. He did not acquire the species and 
general properties of things, which Imlac says, 
in ^' Rasselas,'* should be in possession of the 
poet through all their varieties. He was ever 
more inclined to metaphysical research than 
could be expected in a writer whose fame reposed 
upon works of imagination. At the time he was 
a student at Glasgow university, in 1793, he 
wrote some lines on the " First of May,'* not out 
of the common rate in excellence. There too he 
attended the lectures of Dr. Millar, a professor 
of extraordinary merit and of liberal opinions, 
who had the art of making the driest subjects 
captivating. That a poet could be enraptured 
with lectures upon Roman law, seems in itself 
convincing that the attractive power of the lec- 
turer was considerable. Almost equally attached 
to Jardine^ the Professor of Logic — in which he 
gained a prize — it is not wonderful that, with all 
his poetic bias, Campbell should have too often 
forgotten his muse, lovely and attractive as she 

c 2 






20 LITERAKY KEMINISCENCES AND 

was toothers, for speculatiye studies, to which 
eloquence in their explanation too much bent his 
mind. His admiration of Millar he thus left upon 
record. 

Whether John Millar's doctrines/' he said, 
were always right, is one question ; but that 
they were generally so, and that right doctrines 
could not be expounded by a better teacher, I 
believe is questioned by none who oyer listened 
to him. His writings always seem to me to be 
imperfect casts of his mind, like those casts of 
sculpture which want the diaphanous polish of 
the original marble. I heard him, when I was but 
sixteen, lecture on Roman law. A dry subject 
enough it would have been in common hands ; 
but in his hands Heineccius was made a feast to 
the attention. His eyes, his yoice, his figure, 
were commanding ; as if nature had made him for 
the purpose of giving dignity and fascination to 
oral instruction. Such was the truth, cheerful- 
ness, and courage, that seemed to give erectness 
to his shapely bust, he might have stood to the 
statuary for a Roman orator ; but he was too much 
in earnest with his duty, and too manly, to affect 
the orator ; but keeping close to his subject, he 
gave it a seriousness that was never tiresome, tind 
a gaiety that never seemed for a moment unillus- 
trative or unnecessary. His cheerfulness appeared 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 21 

as indispensable as his gravity, and his humour 
was as light as his seriousness was intense. But 
he was the contrast of those weak men who suffer 
either their gaiety or gravity to run away with 
them — ^he was master of both. His students were 
always in the class before him, waiting as for a 
treat. It was rumoured that he was coming. 
There was a grave look of pleasure on every face 
when he began ; and I thought — ^it might be ima- 
gination — that there was a murmur of regret 
when the time was at an end. Once, when he 
was lecturing in his best style and spirit, an En- 
glish student, though perfectly sober, and meaning 
no offence, was so carried away by interest in the 
subject, that, forgetting himself, he made a remark 
aloud to the professor. It was as much against 
etiquette as speaking to a parson in church. A 
look from John Millar was sufficient to bring any 
man to his recollection, and the face of the student 
who had offered the involuntary compliment, was 
instantly covered with blushes." 

Under teachers who thus secured to themselves 
the love as well as respect of the students, it is 
not wonderful that Campbell should have made 
great progress. " Professor Millar has been dead 
twenty-eight years,** Campbell said to me, in 1829, 
showing one of his works. '^ This is Millar's 
< Historical View of the English Government;* 



22 LITEBARY REMINISCENCES AN0 

it is full of information, and well worth reading. 
How he would have rejoiced, had he been alive, 
at the triumph of free principles after the war he 
saw begun to put them down.'' It was said that his 
own undeviating liberal principles were imbibed 
from the zealous Whig politics of Professor 
Millar, most probably at the time of which 
mention is now made. 

After gaining a prize in Greek for good beha- 
viour, and writing some verses addressed to the 
Loyal Volunteers of Glasgow, he walked, during 
a vacation, over to Edinburgh. The trial of 
Gerald, after Muir, and Palmer, took place while 
he was there, and filled his mind with honest in- 
dignation. For years afterwards, he inveighed 
against the unfairness of the Scotch judges and 
their proceedings. It exhibits his sensitiveness 
of disposition, that it was some time before he 
recovered the shock he sustained from witnessing 
that scene of judicial degradation. He was much 
interested in learning the history of Gerald, as 
related to myself at Hatton, by Dr. Parr ; it was 
then he stated his witnessing the trial. 

While at the university, Campbell had formed 
several friendships. Among them was that of the 
Beverend Hamilton Paul, in Broughton; Paul 
was a poet too, though in a different degree from 
his friend ; and he said to Campbell when the 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 23 

poet went to Edinburgh, " Thomas, I see from the 
way poetry is coming upon you, that whatever 
other profession you try, it will be the one through 
which you will be most distinguished in the world. 
I am about to leave verse for another pursuit ; 
yours be the laurel, the kirk mine." 

When the poet quitted the university, where 
his translation from Aristophanes was pronounced 
the best version ever produced by any student, 
he was in his seventeenth year. He was now 
perplexed how to relieve his family by following 
some profession or business, at least, so as to be 
independent of his parents; His father's income 
had become reduced by a lawsuit, his family 
large, and he on whom it depended for support 
being in his eighty-fourth year. The poet could de- 
cide on nothing, because every day more and more 
exhibited the pressure upon talent destitute of 
wealth. Neither of the learned professions could 
be followed without a pecuniary outlay; be- 
sides, his nervous sensibility was a bar to some 
professional pursuits. It was true the qualifica- 
tion for the church of Scotland involved but little 
Airther expense, and he had been educated as a 
son of the kirk, though not a very strict disciple ; 
but it is probable, judging from his sentiments in 
years a little farther advanced, that he could not, 
from doubts of many doctrinal points, have put on 



24 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

the gown without a fiiU belief in what, he pro- 
fessed to inculcate as a duty upon others. He 
had too honest and elevated a mind for such hy- 
pocrisy. In this state of things, and by the advice 
of friends, he determined to accept the duty of a 
tutor in the isle of Mull, at Callioch, the residence 
of a distant relative of Mrs. Campbell. There he 
was kindly received; wrote several short pieces of 
poetry, and took an opportunity of visiting the prin- 
cipal Hebrides,remaining there some months of the 
years 1796-6. From Mull he returned to Glasgow, 
complaining of the sameness of the country. He 
had at this time, as he had all through life, a habit 
of abstraction or thoughtlessness, it is difficult to 
say which ; he would even go out without money, 
and lose himself in his wanderings. He had con- 
tinued his Greek studies and translations while in 
Mull ; and on the authority of Fringle, who pos- 
sessed most of the unpublished youthful poems, 
he wrote in Mull, besides his verses to " Caro- 
line,'' parts I. and II., a piece which. he denomi- 
nated an ^' Elegyj," as well, some say, as his 
beautiful *^ Dirge of Wallace,** which he would 
not agree should be inserted in the first edition 
of his collected poems. 

Akenside's '^Pleasures of Imagination*' had 
long been published, and Rogers's '^ Pleasures of 
Memory " had preceded that time by nearly six 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 25 

years, there was, consequently, no novelty in the 
" Pleasures of Hope," as respects title ; but it was 
there he made the first sketch of the poem. It is 
now of no moment to examine why he adopted 
the existing title, since that it was not original 
must be evident; it is probable, indeed almost 
certain, that the rough copy of the ** Pleasures of 
Hope," yet existing in manuscript, was all that 
the poet brought to Edinburgh. In later 
times, he seemed to fling a veil of mystery over 
the history of this earlier performance. Hence 
it is likely arose so many conflicting statements 
about its origin and publication. When the 
copyright expired in 1828, the poet mentioned to 
a friend the circumstance of his parting with it, 
and said that the booksellers had made two or three 
hundred a year by the sale of the poem, from the 
commencement, he had very little doubt; that 
Messrs. Longman had applied to him for leave to 
sell off a part of an edition which they had upon 
hand, but he had refused the request, saying, ^^ it 
might be managed some other way." 

It is creditable to his diligence that on return- 
ing from MuU, in 1795, he supported himself some 
time by private teaching, and numbered among 
his pupils several men distinguished afterwards 
in public life. In the following 'year he quitted 



26 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

the Qniversity, having obtaiiied two prizes more 
in Grreek literature. 

He became for a short time tntor to Sir Wil- 
liam Napier of Miliken, and resident near Inverary, 
and wrote there his verses entitled *' Love and 
Madness/' in consequence of the murder of her 
lover by a lady. He was there, too, in the vicinity 
of his friend Paul, the minister of the Eirk 
already mentioned. There he seems to have 
relaxed at times from the severity of his studies, 
and to have shown by fits and starts considerable 
elevation of spirits, as if breaking away for a 
short season from the depression caused by his 
circumstances, and his desire to be independent. 
He occasionally joined his friends at convivial 
repasts, when he gave fiiU rein to his youthful 
elasticity of spirits over a cheerfril glass. How 
long he remained is not clear, probably about 
two years. He returned to Glasgow, his mind 
darkened as to the friture, so as to depress him 
greatly. After much perplexity, he resolved to 
proceed to the Scottish capital, with little money 
in his pocket, his head fuU of schemes for the 
future, now thinking of an attorney's office, then 
of writing for the booksellers, or establishing a 
periodical work ; all his designs full of the hope 
that inexperience too often creates only to meet 
disappointment. lie fancied that some of his 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 27 

Greek translations might meet fayonr among the 
Edinburgh publishers^ an idea the last that would 
have entered the head of any one acquainted with 
the '* ungentle trade." He took with him the 
first sketch of the " Pleasures of Hope.'* 

Such were the sanguine ideas of the poet when 
he set out. He began by trying his hand at copy- 
ing as a law-clerk. Accident introduced him to Dr. 
Anderson^ who was pleased on perusing some verses 
he had written^ and he soon became a favourite 
with a man of no ordinary talent^ and was intro- 
duced by him to Mundell^ an Edinburgh publisher, 
who offered him twenty guineas to abridge Bryan 
Edwards' *' West Indies." He at once cast his 
law-copying to the dogs^ a labour which could 
not but act as a narcotic to high intellect, and 
sink imaginativeness in the technical monotony of 
unmeaning verbiage and triviality ; in fact, nothing 
could be more averse to his poetic temperament. 
He returned to his native town on foot, resolving 
to complete his task there. To his return home 
he was more immediately urged by the hope of 
meeting a brother from America. He proceeded 
with his task for Mundell ; projected various 
schemea, none of which were brought to pass, and 
composed '* The Wounded Hussar,*' which was 
sung as a ballad about the streets of Glasgow. 
At this period he wrote several of his shorter 



28 LITERAEY EEMINISCEXCES AND 

pieces, one of which was his ^^ Epistle to the Three 
Ladies on the banks of the Cart'* His " Dirge 
of Wallace," so beautiful in all eyes but his own, 
some say was not composed until now. 

At this time the poet's appearance and manners 
were pleasing, his countenance intellectual, and 
his address good. He went back to Edinburgh, 
with his abridgment completed. He had turned 
his twentieth year, and before setting out, urged 
his father and mother to follow him, which they 
did, in 1798. Still he was unsettled about his 
future pursuits. He thought of the law, of physic, 
of going to the United States, over and over again. 
This uncertainty became painful, and more 
particularly to one of his temperament, nervous 
and sensitiye as he was constituted. He had as 
yet only a scanty employment from the booksellers, 
and a pupil or two to depend upon for support. 
At one time he was on the point of emigrating to 
join a brother abroad. From this he was per- 
suaded by a friend, and he thus remained, with a 
clouded horizon around him, instructing a few 
pupils, and completing the *' Pleasures of Hope,*' 
from the sketch he had previously made in Ar- 
gyleshire. 

It might be thought that, with a mind ever 
anxious about to-morrow, the composition and 
high finish of such a poem as the *^ Pleasures of 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 29 

Hope/* would have been a task impossible of 
achievement. But in the composition of a poem^ 
the mind becoming wholly absorbed^ external 
things are for a time dismissed. Here the hope of 
a brilliant result^ a dream often woven in sanguine 
minds even of the more mediocre order, acted as 
a stimulant to the prosecution of the task up to 
the completion of the manuscript. 

These details in the memoir of one whose life 
was a continual change of incident or narrative 
of adventure, might be thought trivial, were they 
not useful to discriminate more immediately be- 
tween physical differences and the more refined 
mental attributes. The rough hand of the plough- 
man can ill appreciate the delicate touch of the 
finger that constructs the chronometer. To him the 
instrument may appear useless, but to the profes- 
sional and cultivated mind its application is ob- 
vious. Shades and nice differences in character are 
sometimes discriminated through the medium of 
some symptomatic expression of feeling oftentimes 
insignificant. Hence there is little performed by 
the man of genius unworthy of notice, especially 
when it contributes to the means of forming a 
true conception of the character of the individual. 

I once asked Campbell whether it was true that 
he got but fifty pounds for the copyright of the 
poem, and he replied that was the correct sum. 



so LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

Upon which I remarked that it was an unlucky 
adventure in publication ; but that no bookseller 
would have given such a sum to a young stranger 
for the best tragedy of Shakspeare, were the 
author unknown in the great world. **0h," 
replied the poet^ '^ I did not go to mine unrecom- 
mended ;'' alluding, it is probable, to the recom- 
mendation of Dr. Anderson, who must have had 
considerable influence with Mundell and Co., 
from their being his own publishers. 

My supposition was, that the sum of fifty pounds 
had been paid to the poet in the usual manner ; 
but the following statement of facts, ascertained 
since his decease, shows that Campbell, as already 
observed, was not from pride, or some unknown 
reason, at all inclined to be more communi- 
cative than was absolutely necessary, respecting 
the copyright of his poem. There were some 
circumstances of novelty attaching to it, which he 
could hardly have forgotten, especially as he was 
free enough in his communications upon incidents 
of an earlier date ; in fact, he showed a disin* 
genuousness in regard to this business which 
it is not easy to explain. 

He did not receive fifty pounds in money for 
the copyright of the " Pleasures of Hope,*' but 
he parted with the copyright of the poem alto- 
gether for two hundred printed copies, to be re- 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS. CAMPBELL. 31 

ceived of the publishers. This is shown by the 
following documents belonging to Mundell and 
Son, in the course of the business transacted be- 
tween them. It must be observed that the dedi- 
cation of the first edition bore a date three months 
antecedent, or April 13, 1799. 

Exempt from a letter dated July 13, 1799. 

'* As the ' Pleasures of Hope * are now pub- 
lished, it is proper that it be expressed in writing 
what bargain I made with you about the copy- 
right of the work. It was settled that, for two 
hundred copies of the book in quires, Mundell 
and Son should have the entire copyright of the 
poem. 

(Addressed) " Thomas Campbell.'* 

Exempt &om letter, dated July 15, 1799. 

" I acknowledge having sold you the copyright 
of the ^Pleasures of Hope' for two hundred 
copies in quires. 

rSigned) " Thomas Campbell.'' 

Now, two hundred copies in quires would be 
above fifty pounds, and supposing the sum of fifty 
shillings for boarding, and selling at six shillings, 
he must have received fifty-seven pounds ten 
shillings for the copyright. He also was presented 
by his booksellers, of their own free will, with 



32 LITEKART EEMINISCENCE8 AND 

twenty-five pounds for every edition of a thousand 
copies^ or, if two thousand were printed, fifty 
pounds, which sums were sometimes remitted to 
him in London, through Longman and Co., and 
sometimes paid to his mother. He was most 
generous and considerate to his relatives, and a 
truly excellent son and brother. On this score 
his receipts were one hundred and fifty pounds 
more. A misunderstanding taking place between 
the poet and Mundell and Son, these free pay- 
ments were discontinued. Besides these payments, 
Campbell received permission to print by subscrip- 
tion a quarto edition, the seventh, for his own be- 
nefit. This edition yielded him at least six hundred 
pounds more, or, in all, eight hundred and seven 
pounds. Campbell did not receive less than nine 
hundred pounds for the copyright of the *^ Plea- 
sures of Hope " alone.* 

More than half a century ago, such a profit 
upon a poem of eleven hundred lines was equal to 
that of Byron in a more vaunted literary era, a 
poet whose writings had a prodigious run, even, as 
it is well known, to the utmost of profit that the 
most popular author could expect to receive who 
does not retain his copyright. The '^ Pleasures of 
Hope " brought its author fifteen shillings and a 

* Letter to the writer from Mr. Stirling, once of the 
hoiue of Mundell and Co., (1844), who was then living in 
Sose Street, Edinburgh. 



HBMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 33 

fraction a line; and Byron, in receiving two 
thousand five hundred pounds for ''Manfred,'* 
the ** Prisoner of Chillon/* and the third canto 
of ** Childe Harold/* got no more per line. It is 
true that the booksellers, their heirs, executors, 
assigns, may, to their own advantage, quintuple 
such sums, but the author can have no ground to 
complain. The bargain made by the author of 
the ** Pleasures of Hope " might have been bad, 
but the pecuniary worth of the poem could not 
be known until it was tested. It turned out that 
the author had no reason to censure the time in 
which he published, which appreciated his poem 
more correctly, nearly half a century ago, and with 
half the present reading population of the British 
Isles, than it would have done had he written later. 
Byron then, with his astonishing popularity, and 
driving the bargain of a well-known author, got 
no more than Campbell received, merely through 
a concession of his publishers. 

Mundell and Co. therefore behaved with ex- 
traordinary generosity, and they were rewarded 
proportionably. It must be confessed, that when 
the poet years afterwards, at a public dinner, as- 
tounded the company by proposing the health of 
Napoleon Bonaparte, Emperor of the French, in 
an assembly where that wonderful man was in 
those days looked upon as little other than his 

VOL. I. D 



84 LITERARY REMINISCENCEB AND 

Satanic majesty, and being asked how he could 
give such a toast, replied, ** He shot a bookseller." 
The experience of the past ought to have whis- 
pered to him, that in this he showed a lapse of 
taste, however much other authors might have 
reason to complain. His misunderstanding with 
Mundell and Co. lasted several years. This state- 
ment, now for the first time given, rests upon 
competent authority. 

The first edition of the " Pleasures of Hope." 
was dedicated to Dr. Anderson. It is not pos- 
sible to say what numerous changes and altera- 
tions the poem underwent before it reached its 
last point of refinemeut. The original copy, it 
appears, consisted of no more than four hundred 
lines. In the manuscript, at the end, was ap- 
pended *' The Irish Harper's Lament for his 
Dog," at present printed in Campbell's poems as 
'* The Harper." This manuscript belongs now to 
a gentleman who obtained it &om Dr. Murray, in 
his day professor of Oriental languages in the 
University of Edinburgh ; and it stands in Camp- 
bell's handwriting. 

It is probable that Dr. Anderson made so many 
suggestions in the way of alteration and emen- 
dation, that the poet set about the recomposition 
of the whole poem. Campbell being once asked 
if such a manuscript copy were not in existence. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 35 



• 



is stated to have replied in the negative. This 
was not unlikely. When I put the question to 
Campbell separately^ about several of his poems 
that I had obtained in manuscript, in order to add 
them to his first collected edUion, there were some 
which he could not tell whether he had written 
or not. His carelessness about papers^ too^ that 
were not in immediate \xse^ those who knew his 
habits can easily imagine. The last copy of " The 
Pleasures of Hope *' completed, any rough draught 
that preceded, fragments of his composition, or 
imperfect verses, would have been left to their 
fate about his study-floor, or flung into the grate. 
The poet's sincere belief in the non-existence of 
such a copy is, therefore, not at all to be doubted, 
although it was really in being in the hands of a 
friend. 

How very different the first poem began, may 
be judged by comparing the opening lines of 
" The Pleasures of Hope,** as they now exist — 
commencing 

" At summer eve, when heaven's ethenal bow," 

with the following opening in the original 
draught. Those who are enraptured with the 
emasculated verse of the present hour, and treat 
the labour of such as polish and condense their 
poetical compositions with affected scorn, will 

p 2 



36 LITERABT REMINISCENCES AND 

prefer the original opening of " The Pleasures of 
Hope^' to that which was finally attached to 
it:— 

" Seven Hngering moons have cross'd the starry line 
Since Beauty's form, or Nature's face divine. 
Had power the sombre of my soul to torn—- 
Had power to wake my strings and bid them bum. 

The charm dissolves ! What genius bade me go 
To search the unfathom'd mine of human woe — 
The wrongs of man to man, of clime to clime—- 
Since I^ature yoked the fiery steeds of Time — 
The tales of death — since cold on Eden's plain 
The beauteous mother clasp'd her Abel slain — 
Ambitious guilt^since Carthage wept her doom — 
The patriot's fate^since Brutus fell with Borne P 

The charm dissolves ! My kindling fancy dreams 
Of brighter forms inspired by gentler themes ; 
Joy and her rosy flowers attract my view, 
And Mirth can please, or Music charm anew ; 
And Hope, the harbinger of golden hours. 
The light of life, the fire of Fancy's powers, 
• Betums : — ^Again I lift my trembling gaze. 
And bless the smiling guest of other days. 

So when the I^orthem in the lonely gloom, 
Where Hecla's fires the Polar night illume. 
Hails the glad summer to his Lulean shores. 
And, boVd to earth, his circling suns adores. 

So when Cinmierian darkness wakes the dead, 
And hideous Nightmare haunts the curtain'd bed. 
And scowls her wild eye on the maddening brain. 
What speechless horrors thrill the slumbering swain. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 87 

; When shapeless fiends inhale his tortor'd breath, 
Lnmore him living in the vaults of death, 

i Or lead him lonely through the chamell'd aisles. 
The roaring floods, the dark and swampy vales. 
When rock'd by winds he wanders on the deep. 
Climbs the tall spire, or scales the beetling steep, ^ 
His life-blood freezing to the central urn, 
"No voice can call for aid, no limb can turn. 
Till eastern shoots the harbinger of day, 

: And night and all her spectres fade away. 

If then some wandering huntsman of the mom. 
Wind from the hill his murmuriDg bugle horn. 
The shrill sweet music wakes the slumberer's ear, 

> And melts his blood, and bursts the bands of fear ; 
The vision fades— the shepherd lifts his eye— 

» And views the lark that carols to the sky." 

By a comparison it Mrill be discoyered what 
lines are altered from the original draught, and 
what are altogether omitted; nor is it an nn* 
pleasing task thus to follow the refinement of the 
cruder expressions of the thoughts up to their 
highest polish. An idea of the extreme care 
and laborious fibiish given by young Campbell to 
his compositions can only be formed in this 
mode. The accident of the poet falling thus 
early into the hands of such an accomplished 
critic and man of kindly nature as Dr. Anderson, 
was one of those lucky circumstances that befall 
the favoured of fortune in early life, and con- 
teibuted mainly to the poet's success. 



38 LITERARY RBUINISCENCES AND 

It would be interesting to know all that took 
place between the poet and his acquaintance^ who 
then bore the chief weight of literary authority 
in Edinburgh. How the labour of the author 
was taxed by the fastidiousness of the critic ; hiow 
the poet's efforts^ stimulated to exertion^ produced 
the consecutive portions of the poem to his de- 
lighted friend; what was said^ and still more 
what was felt; how the poet was at one time 
elevated at the chances of success^ at another 
depressed, his fear of deficiency in his own view 
discouraging him, while it was the criterion of 
merit; how his heart secretly exulted at the 
prospect of succeeding. I say " secretly/' because 
Campbell ever strove to conceal his emotions — 
but all this and more is now as a buried and lost 
treasure. That he must have well employed his 
residence in Edinburgh, is hardly doubtful. 
Few anecdotes of him made public relate to that 
time. It appears, that while there he was much 
given to solitude. He was often seen wandering 
alone over the bridge or in the vicinity of the city, 
perhaps mentally working up the verses of his 
poem, and nurturing flattering visions of the 
future. At times he hummed a tune as he went 
saunteringly along^ unobservant of all around him. 

When Dr. Anderson died, Campbell enume- 
rated the particulars of his life, and his various 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 89 

literary labours^ and terminated his remarks 
upon his friend as follows : — 

'^ Dr. Anderson's habits were so re^ar, and 
his disposition so cheerful and animated, that his 
old age stole upon him almost imperceptibly. 
For the last winter he had been more than 
usually confined to the house by a succession of 
bad colds; but the disease which proved fatal, and 
terminated very speedily, was a dropsy in the 
chest. Tet to the last he retained the possession 
of his mind, together with his habitually qidet 
and social temper. On the close approach of 
death he displayed affecting and exemplary resig- 
nation, and spoke of his dissolution with tender 
remembrances of lost and surviving friends, as 
well as with pious hopes of futurity. His 
remains were taken to his native place, Carnwath, 
and deposited, as had always been his wish, 
beside his father and mother. As a literary 
critic. Dr. Anderson was distinguished by a 
warm and honest sensibility to the beauties of 
poetry, and by extreme candour. His character 
was marked by the most urbane manners, the 
most honourable probity in his dealings, and by 
unshaken constancy in friendship. He was an 
encouraging friend to young writers, and to him 
the author of 'The Pleasures of Hope,' who 



40 LITERART REMINISCENCES AND 

was long and mutually attached to him^ dedicated 
his first production." 

This' iSj at leasts declaratory of the poet's recol- 
lection of past obligations, of which he was never 
unmindful to show his acknowledgment, when 
they occurred to him, for it is necessary to 
premise this. From his unlucky habit of ab- 
straction, he continually stood in need of a 
flapper. No one was more ready to do what was 
kind, agreeable, or useful to others, than he was, 
while his omissions in this way at times gave 
ground to those who did not know his failing, for 
the supposition that his neglects were wilfiil, and 
his heart ungrateful. Nothing can be more erro- 
neous. No man existing had a better heart, or 
was more ready to perform a friendly action. He 
spoke in the kindest manner of Dugald Stewart, 
too, who was one of his first Edinburgh ac- 
quaintance. In referring to Stewart's works, and 
his account of the '* Life and Writings of Dr. 
Beid/' who had christened him, he said that 
the profound character of Stewart's writings on 
the " Philosophy of the Human Mind,*' he felt 
almost too much for him ; that it was a continued 
object of his admiration i that his theory of mind 
was wonderful ; that he was one of the greatest 
men Scotland ever produced. '^ He was one of 
my best and earliest friends, too," said Campbell, 



MBMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 41 

" whom it is not possible for me to forget. He 
gave me rules for thinkings and much excellent 
advice." 

It is not to be supposed that a metaphysician 
like Dugald Stewart was of much assistance to 
Campbell. in the composition of a poem. Dr. 
Anderson, whose acquirements were more directed 
to judge works of an imaginative character, not 
to criticise, but to suggest and prompt improve- 
ments, must have been his maiA aid. Campbell 
used to carry his alterations and additions in 
manuscript, to receive the judgments which were 
often to renew corrections and alterations. To 
the united attention of both author and critic was 
the poem idtimately indebted for its perfection. 
It was read and re-read, and the result was 
proportional to the pains which had been taken. 
The sale of this lasting monument of taste and 
poetical excellence also affords a high idea of the 
public judgment of that day in literature. 

''The Pleasures of HopeV appeared in the 

author's twenty-second year, in the month of 
May, 1799. The poet had sojourned some 
months in Edinburgh at the time, and had ac- 
quired during his residence the friendship of 
every distinguished individual in the University. 
It was thought that in composing '' The 
Pleasures of Hope" he completed the sections 



42^ LITERARY REMINISCENCBS AND 

separately^ but not in the order in which they 
now appear. This was the most facile mode, as 
there is no continuous story, the poem being di- 
dactical. He said that it was composed much in 
that way. Each attribute or invocation being 
sometimes continuous in sense, and sometimes 
not with the paragraph which follows, he could 
thus compose, and then select and arrange, as his 
t^ste or fancy might dictate. When a new idea 
came into his mind, he could follow it out to 
completion, and afterwards perfect others that he 
had begun before and not completed, leaving the 
work of arrangement to the last. It has been 
said that the opening lines were intended for the 
conclusion ; and this is probable. 

Almost faultless as well as being exquisitely 
beautiful, the ** Pleasures of Hope** has some 
errors, which on that account appear the more 
remarkable, and these errors, too, though small^ 
are of a very obvious character. With all the 
graces of execution and elaborateness of work- 
manship, that they should have escaped both 
himself and Dr. Anderson, the last so recognised 
for bis critical acumen, is wonderful. The 
remark was once ventured to him that the intro* 
duction of tigers to the shores of Lake Erie*- 

" On Erie's banks, where tigers steal along," 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 43 

was an error that might easily be corrected in 
future editions. He admitted to me it was an 
error, but he would not alter it, *^ because it had 
gone through so many editions." The truth 
no doubt really was, that his pride would not 
permit him to acknowledge the error, and that it 
would be thought he used it from the opinion 
that it was a legitimate poetical licence. 'When 
he wrote it he had read little, perhaps, of natural 
history. Indeed, to the last of his life this was a 
subject of which he knew next to nothing. iNine 
or ten years afterwards, he committed similar 
errors. In the same paragraph, unless the word 
'^ curfew" be disconnected from its character and 
used metonymically, he is almost equally imfor* 
tunate, as the epithet recals a crime against 
freedom which the poet could never connect in 
his mind with the desired advance of Canadian 
civilisation. In the lines referring to Commodore 
Byron we find hysenas in South America, equally 
out of place. But these are only specks on a 
beautiful disc. What does it matter that in one 
place, for the sake of a rhyme, he uses the 
singular for the plural, or borrows a line, with 
the exception of one word, verbatim, unperceived 
by himself or his critical guide ? The poem is 
so full of the choicest flowers of poetry — it is 
such a garland of rich odours, and of *^ colours- 



44 LITERARY' R£MINISCENC£S AND 

dipt in heaven," exquisitely arranged^ that it 
becomes us to enjoy the sweets rather than set 
about discovering here and there a faded leaf that 
may only set oS the gorgeousness of the foliage, 
in a production which it seems difficult to expect 
will be surpassed, and of the superiority of which 
there was little doubt of the author's con- 
sciousness. 

There was a high tone of thinking about Camp- 
bell in middle life. He never spoke of his own 
poetry but on rare occasions. His feeling was of 
a delicate kind ; he experienced that sort of pride 
which is utterly wanting in a tribe of writers 
of the present hour acting so differently. We 
had been visiting a vain author in company one 
day, who displayed upon his drawing-room table 
a number of elegantly bound books, two or three 
volumes among which were his own productions. 
On coming away and walking towards home, he 

said to me : — " Did you observe the works of 

just now, displayed upon his own table with so 
much ostentation? It is beneath a writer of 
merit. If they had been worth sixpence, they 
would not have been perked up under our noses 
in that way." Tet he had much vanity of a 
different kind. He was delighted to be thought 
the foremost in every thing in which he engaged, 
even when he was palpably deficient. He would 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 45 

present facts at times in letters to his friends to 
make himself the hero of a tale which belonged 
to another. He also had much concealed amquT' 
propre. 

During the last few years of his life a qualified 
exception may be made to this high tone of 
thinkings but no one in his better days possessed 
so much of that just propriety of feeling which 
can have no existence except in an organisation 
of great sensibility^ conscious of innate power, 
fearful of the degradation of its renown through 
its actions, ambitious of fame, and exceedingly 
solicitous about the preservation of the place it 
had attained by the productions of its genius. 

Telling Campbell on a particular occasion that 
he had been abused by a party from whom an 
attack, though of no great importance, was some- 
what annoying, he replied, '^ I don't care what 
they say of me.^^ He appeared to lay a stress 
upon the last word, indicating '* if they do attack 
me personally, they cannot injure the reputation 
of my poetry — that is secured.** The apparently 
unintentional emphasis on a word will sometimes 
explain what is passing in the mind, as the key 
unlocks the latent meaning of the cypher. 

The various and magnificent range of English 
poetry presents no example of early excellence 



46 UTERA&Y RBMINI8CBNCES AKD 

to equal the *^ Pleasures of Hope.'* The 
*' Vathek " of Beckford^ written at the same age, 
is, perhaps, the most striking specimen of early 
prose writing w6 possess, coupled, too, with the 
fiict of its haying been written in a foreign lan- 
guage. Both productions are remarkable for 
bearing marks of the highest possible mental cul- 
ture. The laborious polish in the yerses of the 
''Pleasures of Hope " are among the best proofis 
to what an extent the English is capable of being 
refined, and how £ur the capabilites of the lan- 
guage will go in that species of poedcal compo- 
sition which can alone be expected to attain in 
the eyes of true taste a classical and healthful 
longeyity. 

Dr. Anderson introduced young Campbell to 
the best Edinburgh society, among which were 
Jeffrey, Brougham, and one of his earliest and best 
friends, Mr. Thompson of Clithero. There, too, 
he found an old friend in Grahame, author of 
" The Sabbath,"«whom he had known in Glasgow. 
At this time he seems to haye made the acquaint- 
ance of Scott. Lockhart states as much, and that 
Scott was among the foremost to welcome him 
to Edinburgh. Campbell said, in relation to the 
MS. of Cadyow — *' The yerses of Cadyow Castle 
are perpetually ringing in my imagination : — 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 47 

' Where, mightiest of beasts of chace. 
That roam in woody Caledon, 
CmshiDg the forest in his race, 
The mountain bull comes thundering on.' 

And the arrival of Hamilton^ when — 

' Reeling from the recent deed, 

He dash'd his carbine on the ground !' 

I have repeated these lines so often on the 
North Bridge^ that the whole fraternity of coach- 
men know me by my tongue as I pass. To be 
sure^ to a mind in sober, serious, street-walking 
humour, it must have the appearance of lunacy, 
when one stamps with the hurried pace and fer- 
vent shake of the head which strong, pithy poetry 
excites.** 



4S LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 



CHAPTER II. 

Campbell leaves Edinburf^h for GermaDy. — Acqaamtances 
at Hamburgh. — Xlopstock. — Lines to tbe Jewess of Al- 
tona.— Visits Gottin^en. — Introduction to the Schlegels. 
— Joamey to Munich. — The Field of Hohenlinden. — 
Begins a new poem called '* The Queen of che North." 
— Eeturns to Scotland. — Seizure of his papers. — Voy- 

» age to Liverpool.*— Dr. Currie and Mr. Hoscoe. — 
Beaches London with letters of introduction from Dr. 
Currie. — Anecdote of the Poet. — Quarto edition of his 
Poems. — Love Verses. — Letter to the Poet from Mr. 
Soscoe. 

FEW months after he had completed his 
arrangement with Mundell and Son for the 
publication of the " Pleasures of Hope," 
Campbell quitted Scotland for Germany, having a 
strong inclination to yisit that country. The Elbe, 
on accountof the war, was then the most facile mode, 
to an inhabitant of England, of entering Germany 
by Hamburgh, where he arrived in June, 1800. 
It was not wholly the desire to acquire a know- 




MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 49 

ledge of German literature that induced the poet 
to take the step, for he had made several ac- 
quaintance among the young men sent oyer to 
study medicine in Edinburgh, and this was 
another cause inducing him to bend his steps in 
that direction, 

Campbell could at that moment have derived 
little pecuniary benefit from his poem beyond 
what arose from the sale of the copies given by 
his booksellers as the price of the ' copyright, 
about fifty pounds, for he could hardly foresee 
that his poem would turn out as profitable to him 
as it ultimately did, nor calculate on the sums 
presented to him by his publishers, nor on his 
subsequent quarto edition. What were his pecu- • 
niary resources to meet a sojourn of nearly thir- 
teen months on the continent, no inconsiderable 
portion of the time being spent in travelling, does 
not readily appear, except it arose from his cor- 
respondence with a London paper, the " Morning 
Chronicle." 

His first residence was at Hamburgh, where he 
remained for some time, and made many friends, 
besides meeting one or two individuals whom he 
had before known. Long years afterwards, he 
continued to retain a grateful remembrance of 
his acquaintance there by an occasional corre- 
spondence. As late as 183S, he gave me a letter 

VOL. I. • B 



60 LITERARY R£MIKI8C£NC£S AND 

for a particular object, a passage in which bore 
upon his yisit to that city, and afforded full evi- 
dence that the case of an Irish exile^ at that time 
in Hamburgh, was the cause of his composing 
" The Exile of Erin." The writer said :— 

" When I quitted Hamburgh, I left all your 
friends and acquaintance well, with the exception 

of Dr. S , whom you may remember to have 

met at dinner on one or two occasions. He, poor 
fellow, is dead. You were, I believe, better ac- 
quainted with Dr. L , formerly a student at 

Edinburgh. He was brother-in-law of Dr. S . 

The latter was likewise nephew to the Professor 

S of Gottingen, the celebrated botanist. Not 

long before I quitted Hamburgh, I had the plea- 
sure of meeting Mr. M'Cann at the house of our 

mutual friend J , and I am happy to say that, 

at the period of which I speak, ' The Exile of 
Krin * was in excellent health and spirits." 

That gem in pathetic poetry, ** The Exile of 
Krin/* was suggested by the case of this friend 
of the poet* The severities practised in Ireland 
hy the British government, incredible as they 
would appear in the present day, cannot be re- 
called but with indignation by those who yet 
it^meinbor ihenu A grudge against a neighbour 
wai sulKeient, by secret information, to make him 
a iMri9oner in a dungeon at home, or drive him a 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 51 

voluntary exile into any foreign land. Many ex- 
cellent persons of this class attracted the poet's 
sympathy at Hamburgh^ and most justly and 
feelingly did he afterwards speak of their situ- 
ation. Campbell made many efforts to obtain 
leave for M*Cann to return home, but in vain. 
Lord Castlereagh was inexorable. 

While at Hamburgh^ Campbell paid a visit to 
Klopstock, who resided not far away, two years 
before the decease of the venerable author of the 
*' Messiah." Klopstock was then very infirm. 
Campbell described him, at the age of seventy- 
seven, as a plain man, of unpretending manners, 
great mildness, and apparent goodness of dispo- 
sition, and as one of the first great names in the 
world of letters he ever knew. He presented 
him with a copy of the " Pleasures of Hope.'* 
He said that though Klopstock's works reminded 
him of Milton, by a scanty image or two, there 
was no association produced by the German's 
person or manner that recalled the unbending and 
lofty ideal of the English bard. There was, he 
said, an ode of Klopstock to the ** Lake of Zu- 
rich,'' which, in the original German, was an 
excellent specimen of his style in lyric writing, 
as well as of the temper of the man. 

The poet did not remain long enough at Ham- 
burgh to make an acquaintance with more than 

E 2 



52 LITERARY JfiMINISCfiNCKS AND 

the general constitution of the German language. 
While sojourning there, he paid visits to the 
country in the Ticinity, and was introduced to 
more than one individual of literary attainments 
at Altona. It was at that place he composed those 
sweet lines which have been long ago published, 
but which he would not allow to appear in his 
collected works ** because they were a fragmtnV^ 
They were republished in one of the annuals 
about twenty years ago. 

TO A BEAUTIFUL JEWISH GIEL OF ALTONA : 

A FEAGMENT. 

Oh, Judith ! had our lot been cast 

In that remote and simple time 
When, shepherd swains, thy fathers past 
From dreary wilds aud deserts vast 

To Judah's happy clime,— 

My Bong, upon the mountain rocks. 

Had echoed of thy rural charms ; 
And I had fed thy father's flocks ; 
O Judith of the raven locks ! 

To win thee to my arms. 

Our tent, beside the murmur calm 

Of Jordan's grassy-vested shore, 
Had sought the shadow of the palm. 
And blest with Gilead's holy balm 

Our hospitable door. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 58 

At falliog night, or mby dawn, 

Or yellow moonlight's welcome cool. 

With health and gladness we had drawn, 

From silver fountains on the lawn. 
Our pitcher brimming full. 

How sweet to us at sober hours 

The bird of Salem would have sung, 
In orange or in almond bowers,— 
Fresh with the bloom of many flowers, 
Like thee, for ever young 1 

But ah, my Love ! thy father's land — 

It sheds no more a spicy bloom, 
Nor fills with iiruit the reaper's hand ; 
But wide its silent wilds expand, 

A desert and a tomb ! 

Yet, by the good and golden hours 
That dawn'd those rosy fields among, — 

By Zion's palm-encircled towers, — 

By Salem's far forsaken bowers. 
And long-forgotten song. 



The precise road Campbell took on leaving 
Hamburgh ' is unknown, unless any of his cor- 
respondence, remaining in the surviving family 
of Dr. Anderson, should bring it to light. 
There was not, at that period, so great a strict- 
ness on the continent as was afterwards shown by 
the French government in relation to British 
subjects. It was said that he was in Batisbon 
when the French and Austrian treaty saved it 



54 LTTEBARY REMINISCENCES AND 

from bombardment ; but there were no Austrian 
and French treaties but those of July and De- 
cember, 1800, and the poet only reached 
Munich in the first days of August. About this 
I am in the dark, and therefore speak vaguely as 
they concern the poet. The public dates thus 
given are correct. Augereau, it is true, menaced 
Ratisbon, and the poet might have gone from 
thence to Munich, for the treaty was in full 
force. In Germany he made an intimacy with 
Augustus William Schlegel, On the visits of 
Schlegel to this country, he was the constant 
guest of the poet, who had a very high idea of 
him as a man ; his acquirements, as all the 
world well knows, were undisputed. Never 
were there two men more dissimilar. Augustus 
Schlegel was talkative upon every subject con- 
nected with literature, and showed at times no 
small share of the vanity of successful author- 
ship. His friend, Campbell, was the very reverse 
of this. There was, too, about Schlegel a sort of 
petit'tnaitre bearing, assumed upon occasions, of 
which Campbell had not a trace. The poet was 
unconstrained, patriotic, and free in his political 
sentiments. Schlegel had mingled too much 
among the despotic nobles of Germany to talk of 
politics, or find fault with things that were ; not- 
withstanding he was most learned and agreeable 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 55 

company, and had a very sincere regard for 
Campbell^ whose friendship seemed to relax in 
the German's regard some sixteen years after the 
period when he introduced him to the narrator. 
On asking him^ in the spring of 1836^ whether 
he had heard recently from Bonn« he replied, 
that Schlegel, he thought, was altered frofin what 
he had been, and that there was some coldness in 
his conduct. This was no more, it is probable, 
than surmise ; as men get older, the expression of 
that warmth of feeling seen in preceding life too 
commonly weakens, as if, when mortal friend* 
ships draw towards an inevitable end, nature 
would, smooth the way by lessening the strength 
of the tie to the imagination, to deaden the pain 
of separation. 

The route to be taken by the poet towards 
Vienna from Batisbon, lay through a district that 
had been the seat of war in the existing 
summer. A suspension of arms had been con- 
cluded between Moreau and the Austrians at 
Parsdorf, in front of Munich, on the 15th of 
July, 1800. Moreau had £xed his head quarters 
at Munich, and was then in possession of all the 
country between the Iser and the Inn. It was 
thought the suspension of arms would terminate 
in a peace, and four months had actually passed 
without active hostilities ; so that Campbell began 



56 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

to imagine he might proceed without personal 
danger. The suspension of arms stipulated that 
hostilities might be renewed by either party on 
giving twelve days* notice. 

It w'as in the month of October^ 1800^ that he 
was travelling towards Vienna, when it was 
announced to him that the hostilities would soon 
recommence, and he found that the prescribed 
notice of twelve days had just expired, though 
the fact was unknown beyond the head quarters 
of the hostile armies. This caused the traveller 
considerable perplexity; he had supposed he 
might proceed with safety in the rear of the 
French army, and that the Austrians would make 
but little resistance; he had quartered himself 
in the Scotch college at Batisbon, but now he 
returned from Eatisbon to Altona, out of the 
way of the scenes of carnage that were expected 
to take place, after visiting Munich and the 
Valley of the Inn. While at Ratisbon he had 
suffered an attack of fever within the convent 
walls. In one place he crossed a battle-field in 
a clumsy German carriage, but he did not say 
exactly where, perhaps near Landshut. On 
emerging from a pine-wood he came upon open 
ground, where the ravages of war were horribly 
visible in the bodies of men and horses strewed on 
the blood-stained ground. Nothing impeded his 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL, 57 

route, yet he perceived the vehicle stop, and 
missed the postilion, who left him full three- 
quarters of an hour alone. "I had enough 
around me to meditate upon," observed Campbell 
to myself, ^' that is if the weather had not been 
unbearably chill. I had lost all patience, when 
the Bavarian scoundrel came up loaded with 
horses' tails. He had been cutting off the tails of 
the horses that lay dead around, then piling up a 
goodly number of them behind the carriage, he 
resumed his tardy pace.'' The poet also saw a 
skirmish from the walls of the convent, between 
the outposts of the French and Austrians, when 
the latter retreated. The account of this affair 
given by Washington Irving is not correct. 

Safe at Altona, he began a new poem, called 
" The Queen of the North," and cultivated his 
knowledge of the German tongue very assidu- 
ously. There is reason to believe that he was 
foremost in some merry-makings among his 
countrymen and the unfortunate exiles whom the 
government of Ireland had forced to seek a 
refuge in Hamburgh. 

He returned home after an absence of twelve 
months ; he came back to Yarmouth, and so to 
London, where he was kindly received by Perry, 
of the Morning Chronicle ; Perry introduced him. 



58 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND ' 

said Thomas Pringle, to many of the leading 
characters in London. 

He now began a mock-heroic poem^ but his 
attempts at wit in writing were always unsatis- 
factory. His acquaintance with Sir G. Elliott, 
afterwards Lord Minto, commenced at this time. 
He presumed that in the great success of the 
** Pleasures of Hope" he had a fair ground for 
soliciting the permission of Mundell and Co. to 
print a handsome edition in quarto^ by subscrip- 
tion. This may be called the seventh, but the 
booksellers to whom the copyright belonged 
named the next edition in 16mo. after the sub- 
scription quarto, the seventh. The quarto edi- 
tion, it was agreed, should be printed in London, 
and the poet himself came to town for the 
purpose of superintending the printing by 
Bensley. The spy system of the minister Ad- 
dington was now fully carried out, and yet further 
illustrated by the seizure of his papers on his 
arrival at home, and the arrest of himself, if 
it might be so called, in Scotland, llie treason 
in his papers was comprized in the draught of 
'* Ye Mariners of England.'* The affair came to 
nothingi and was solely owing to some of the 
wretchest who were then kept in the minister's pay, 
who instigated men to crime to show something 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 59 

for their wages; he escaped a personal detention 
in England by mere accident. 

The " Pleasures of Hope," or indeed any other 
poem of equal merits could not have obtained the 
success it did without being sustained for a time^ 
and then proclaimed, as it were by authority, to 
be worthy of public regard. The work that 
now issues from the publishers' shelves, unsup- 
ported by latent and too often not very honest 
means of designation, has no chance of success 
let its merits be what they may. Campbell 
steered his boat with a flowing sail. The auspi- 
cious breeze of critical favour, that in those days 
was commanding, wafted to him the patronage of 
what is styled, in most undiscerning, uncompli- 
mentary phrase for the interests of truth, the 
** discerning public." The success of the poem 
was what might be expected, and no more than it 
merited. Scotland had been loud in the praises 
of the young poet, who had no rival at that time 
in his native land. A writer in one of the 
magazines* — the only writer who, amidst a mass 
of falsehood and disgraceful rubbish put forth 
respecting the poet after his decease, seems to have 
known anything about him, said that Campbell, 
after his return, became for a time the ** lion of 
Edinburgh.'' 

* Erazer's Magazine. 



60 LIT£RART REMINISCENCES AND 

*' The last time I saw you," said a lady of 
advanced age, to the poet, '^ was in Edinburgh, 
when you were swaggering about in a Suwarrow 
jacket." 

** Yes," replied Campbell, '* I was then a con- 
temptible puppy." 

'^ But that was thirty years ago and more," she 
remarked. 

*' Whist, whist !" said Campbell, " it is unfair 
to reveal both our puppyism and our years." 

The poet reached London at the commence- 
ment of the spring of 1802. At Liverpool, on 
his way, having introduced himself to Dr. Currie 
with a letter from Dugald Stewart, he was hospi- 
tably entertained in the doctor's house, in a mode 
that might be expected from such a disinterested 
lover of literature. He did more, for he intro- 
duced him to the noble-hearted Roscoe, then 
resident at Allerton Hall, who was no less kind 
and attentive to the young poet than Dr. Currie had 
been. Campbell was in weak health, and nervous ; 
Roscoe, not to the diminution of the poet's 
nervousness, insisting on mounting him upon a 
pony for exercise. The poet's timidity on the 
occasion is well remembered by some of the 
surviving members of the family. Mr. Thomas 
Boscoe, a friend of the poet's as well as his 
father, told me that he had a perfect recollection 




MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 61 

of the circumstance^ and of being diverted at 
seeing the poet in his nervous equestrianship at 
Allerton^ when he himself was quite a boy. 

How long Campbell remained in Liverpool is 
not clear^ probably not more than two or three 
weeks. In a letter from Dr. Currie, introducing 
Campbell to Mackintosh and Scarlet, the date, it 
appears, is February 26, 1802. The doctor 
describes the poet as a young man of celebrity, 
author of the '* Pleasures of Hope." He states 
that his knowledge of him was derived from 
Dugald Stewart, and that he had been staying 
some days with him. He remarked that he was 
a young man of extraordinary learning and ac- 
quirements, unusually quick of apprehension and 
possessing great sensibility, and further, that he 
was on his way to London to bring out there an 
edition of his poem, by permission of the book- 
seller to whom he had parted with the copyright 
before it was printed. That the profits of the 
booksellers having been extraordinary, they had 
only annexed the condition that the edition of 
the author should be of such a nature as not to 
interfere with their editions ; the work to be a 
quarto, embellished, and printed by Bensley. 
Dr. Currie then concludes by requesting his 
friends to lay out a fee with the poet, thereby 



62 LIT£RARY REMINISCENCES AND 

obliging the doctor and serving at the same time 
a man of genius. 

On coming to town it would appear that Camp" 
bell commenced writing for the newspapers under 
the auspices of Perry of the Morning Chronicle, 
who introduced him everywhere. Here he found 
his friend Telford, the engineer ; Horner, too, 
another warm friend; but, except with his 
poetical pieces inserted in that paper, he was not 
very successful, nor could it be expected ; expe- 
rience must have been wanting. A knowledge 
of the political topics of the time, and the art of 
rapid composition, those essentials in writing for 
the mass, were not the qualities with which 
Campbell was endowed. Great knowledge of 
literature, care in the choice of words, and slow- 
ness in composition, were impediments in con- 
cocting the articles of a newspaper. In no 
department of the multifarious literature of the 
metropolis could the poet have been employed 
with less effect. He must have been an utter 
stranger to the tact which, in the newspaper 
contests at that time, when politics ran high, 
must have been more than ever demanded; he 
had none of that positive acquaintance with men 
and things, connected with political affairs, which 
can be obtained at the seat of government alone. 
Political knowledge was not then diffused as 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 63 

widely as it is at present, and the duties of an 
adroit writer in a London newspaper were not to 
be acquired in the country. It suffices that the 
poet was unsucessful, though Perry retained him 
for some time to aid in filling up the poet's corner 
of his paper. 

He did not bring out the quarto or seventh edi- 
tion of his poems until he had been a twelvemonth 
(or in June^ 1803) in London. I have no means 
now of comparing it with the first, which I had 
once in my possession for a week or two. This 
copy belonged to the poet, and he begged its 
restoration, as he knew not how to obtain another. 
The quarto is not scarce, and is similar to many 
other works of that day from the elegant press of 
Bensley. What the poet's pecuniary means were 
at this time it is not easy to discover ; his receipts 
from the *' Pleasures of Hope," it has been ob- 
served, could not have taken him to Germany 
and supported him during above a twelvemonths' 
residence and travelling, and, moreover, he had 
set off immediately after their first publication, 
and before any receipts could have accrued had 
they been his own to receive. This year he pub- 
lished too, " Lochiel and Hohenlinden" in Edin- 
burgh, dedicated to Dr. Alison, but without his 
name. He also married his cousin, Matilda 



64 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

Sinclair^ on the 10th of October the same year. 
She was a resident in London^ in Park Street, 
Westminster, and they were married at St Mar- 
garet's. She was the daughter of Mr. Sinclair, a 
merchant in the city, one of seven daughters, 
several of whom I knew. He had scanty means 
when he married. It is probable, therefore, that 
he had other prospects of supporting a wife at the 
time. After this, he paid a visit to Edinburgh. 
During his attentions to his cousin he composed 
the following lines, which do not exhibit very 
flatteringly his skill in love strains, or the depth 
of passionate affection, wanting that quick pulse 
which beats through intensity of amatory feeling. 
In the list of his pieces in 1828, when he marked 
off what he wished to be omitted from his col- 
lected works, he excluded this, which first ap- 
peared in an Edinburgh periodical work. 

Air^l^ Flower qf North WaZet. 

cherub content ! at thy mosB-covered shrine, 

1 would all the gay hopes of my bosom resign ; 
I would part from ambition thy votary to be. 
And breathe not a tow but to friendship and thee. 

But thy presence appears from my wishes to fly. 
Like the gold-coloured clouds on the verge of the sky ; 
No lustre that hangs on the green willow tree. 
Is 80 short as the smile of thy favour to me. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 65 

In the pulse of my heart I haye npurished a care, 
That forbids me thy sweet inspiration to share ; i 

The noon of my life slow departing I see, 
fiat its years as they pass bring no tidings of thee. 

cherub content I at thy moss-covered shrine 

1 would offer my vows if Matilda were mine ; 
Could I call her my own, whom enraptured I see, 

. I would breathe not a tow but to friendship and thee ! 

He wrote some lines on the threatened invasion^ 
and was for some time employed in translating for 
the "Star^* newspaper, in 1802. He lodged 
before his marriage at 61^ South Molton Street. 
In 18QS, he returned to London^ where rumour 
stated that he wrote a series of articles in defence 
of the Grenville administration^ which appeared 
in an evening paper, and that these were the 
reasons of his receiving a pension of 184/. out of 
the Scotch excise. This was made up to 300/. 
subsequently by Lord Melbourne's ministry. The 
pension could hardly have been conferred for any 
such service as that above stated. The knowledge 
of his pecuniary circumstances, and his being the 
foremost poet of that day in merit, his Whig 
principles, and personal knowledge of some of 
the most distinguished of the party, are sufficient 
to account for the grant which took place in Octo- 
ber, 1806; the intentions of Fox in the matter 
being carried out by his successors. 

VOL. I. F 



66 lilTERABT REMINISCENCES AND 



99 



He wrote papers in the '* Edinburgh Review, 
but what articles they comprised is uncertain. 
Jeffrey was known to have complained more than 
once of the poet's idleness. He also made propo- 
sals to Constable and Co., which came to nothing. 
In August 1804, his son, Thomas Telford, was 
bom, and the same year he projected his speci- 
mens of the British poets. His son was named 
Telford from the eminent engineer, his old friend. 

Campbell projected a publication of some work 
in 1805. This is evident from the following letter 
of the historian of Leo X. Dr. Currie had died 
of consumption on the 31st of August in that 
year, aged fifty. He had gone to Devonshire for 
the establishment of his health in a milder climate 
than that of Lancashire. Boscoe, with that con- 
sideration and kindness which stamped true 
nobility upon his character, hearing the rumour 
that Campbell was about to publish again, and 
knowing that Dr. Currie's death deprived him of 
a useful and zealous friend in Liverpool, wrote 
him the following letter, so worthy of himself, with 
which I am favoured from Mr. Boscoe's existing 
correspondence. — 

" My Dear Sir,— 
" The common sympathy and sorrow which I 
am sure we both of us feel for the loss of our late 



J 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 67 

ever-lamented friend Dr. Currie, would be a 
sufficient apology for this intrusion^ even if we 
were greater strangers to each other than I have 
the happiness to think we are. On the death of 
our friend nothing is more soothing to our feelings, 
and indeed more natural, than to turn towards 
those whom they have respected and loved^ and 
who have returned the friendship with equal 
warmth; and that he ever regarded you with 
affectionate kindness is not less certain than that 
you now deeply lament his most unfortunate, and 
I may add, untimely loss. Allow me, then, my 
dear sir, to say^ that amidst these ravages of death 
and warnings of mortality^ I feel myself bound, 
by an additional tie to those who once partook 
with me in the society and friendship of him who 
is no more, and that although the loss of one 
beloved friend has occasioned a void in the bosom 
which can never be supplied^ yet nothing can 
afford me more pleasure than an interchange of 
good offices and of mutual kindness and affection 
with those whom he esteemed and loved. If in 
this view I should be fortunate enough to meet 
your own sentiments, the only proof I shall at 
present ask of it is, that you will allow me to take 
that interest in the success of your labours which 
they so eminently deserve, and to render you the 
same services, as respecting the volume which oar 

F 2 



68 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

excellent young friend Mr. Wallace Currie 
informs me you shortly intend to publish, as his 
father did respecting your last, and which he 
would have repeated with so much pleasure had 
he still suRvived. 

*' Favour me, then, with your plan of publica^ 
tion, and such particulars as you may think ne*- 
cessary, and be assured, the deserved celebrity of 
your name and the actual merit of your writings 
will render it not only an easy, but a grateful task 
to me to furnish you with the suffrages of many 
of my friends, for whom pecuniarily I wiU be 
answerable, and whose payments I will with the 
greatest pleasure anticipate. 

" If in this communication I have ventured too 
far on the presumption, either on the grounds of 
our personal acquaintance, or on those I have 
before stated, let me at least hope to stand excused, 
aiid it shall be sufficient for me to write with such 
influence as I may obtain in the general list of 
your admirers and friends, who, by their public 
approbation of your writings, will, instead of ho- 
nouring you, do honour to themselves. 
*' I am, my dear sir, 

" Most truly and invariably yours, 

" William Roscoe." 
" Allerton, 3rd of November, 1806. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 69 

Campbell having first taken up his residence in 
Fimlico, and removed to Sydenham, after his 
marriage, finished there his " Annals of Great 
Britain^ from the Accession of George III. to the 
peace of Amiens.'^ This is a work almost un- 
known^ nor had he himself a copy in his own 
library to show me. It seems to have fallen into 
neglect from the time of publication, for it bore 
about it nothing salient or striking that possessed 
attraction. The poet was not gifted with talent 
of the order necessary to success in that kind of 
literature, and the '^ annals" were little more than 
a dry catalogue of events chronologically arranged. 

His second son^ Alison, was born in June^ 
this year, 1805. 



70 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 



CHAPTER III. 



Alterations and corrections in different poems. — The poet 
at Sydenham. — Mode of study. — Opinion upon the pro- 
nunciation of the ancient languages. — Mr. Thomas 
Hill and his symposia. — Dinner-parties.— Anecdote of 
Campbell and Leyden.-»-Composition of the poef s odes. 
— Lord Brougham's censure of the poet. — Its utter 
want of foundation. ^Errors in criticism. — Charge of 
jealousy of Dryden unfounded. — Gertrude of Wyoming. 
— ^Mr. Homer's opinion of that poem. — Its favoorable 
reception by the critics. — ^Defects in the poem. — ^Its ex- 
cellenoes pre-eminent. 

S^T was in 1805 that Campbell wrote the 




1 



^ '' Battle of the Baltic," and some of his 
shorter pieces. In that year an edition of 
the British poets, in conjunction with Scott, as co- 
editor, was projected, but did not sncceed, the 
booksellers desiring to dictate how the editorial 
department should he conducted* This led ulti- 
mately to his specimens of the British Poets, which 
were a long time before they were matured. 
Other projects originating at the same time fell 
to the ground* 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBSUi. 71 

He made a number of alterations in his verses ; 
he sometimes printed for correction only, and kept 
them by him. From a copy of the '^ Soldier's 
Dream," after its first publication^ it is evident 
he made the following — 

Our bugles had snug, fpr the night-oloud had lour'd, — 
to— 
Oar bugles sang truce, for the night-clond had loxir'd. 

The allusion in the second version is evidently to 
the pause in a conflict, while in the first it is the 
common ^' go to bed," in the soldier's phraseology, 
sounded in the evening of the day. The last 
line of the second stanza ran. 

And twice ere the cock crew I dream'd it again,-— 

it was altered to — 
And tkrice eie the morning I dream'd it again. 
The third stanza was written — 

Methonght from the battle-field's dreadM array. 
Far, far I had roam'd on a desolate track, 

TiU nature and sunshine disclosed the sweet way 
To the house of my fathers that welcomed me back. 

It was changed thus — 

Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array, 
Far, far, I had roamed on a desolate track, 

'TwM autumn, and sunshine disclosed the sweet way 
To the home of my {athers that welcomed me back. 



1 



72 UTB&AKT AKHINISCSNCES AND 

In a copy of " Hohenlinden^" the fourth stanza 
reads — 

Then shook the hills hj thunder riyen, 
llien msh'd the steeds to battle drireD, 
And rolUng like bolts of heayen 
Far flashed the red artillery. 

It now reads, line the thilrd — 

And loader than the bohs of hearen. 

In the same ode — 

On Linden's hills of stamed snow, 

once read — 

On Linden's leigkis <^ crimson d snow. 

In the '* Beech Tree's Petition/' alterations 
were made firom — 

Though shrob nor fiow'ret nerer grow* 
My daik, unwarming shade below. 
If or frnitB of antmnn blossom bom 
Mj green and glosBj IsaTes adom — 



Thon^ hmsk or flow'ret nerer grow, 
Mj daik, unwanning shade below; 
^or summer lend perfume, the dew 
Of rosy bhish or jeDow hne, 
Nor fruts of antomn, &e. 

The line— 

The a m hwia l amber of tiie hire* 



The amhwsiaUl «iw s of the hire 




MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 73 

Thrice twenty Bummen I haye stood 
In bloomless, fruitlesB solitude. 

This was altered to — 

Thrice twenty summers I have seen 
The sky grow light, the forest green, 
And many wintry winds have stood. 
In bloomless, fruitless solitude, 
Since childhood in my pleasant bower, &c, 

'* Pleasant ** was altered from ** rustling.*' These 
were some of the re-touches in the poet^s earlier 
works, with a view of rendering his verse more 
complete, but no similar efforts were made in re- 
gard to such inaccuracies as would, by remedying 
them, appear to be the confessions of an error 
arising from any deficiency of knowledge, as in 
those before alluded to in natural history ; and the 
more obyious this was, the more repugnant the 
feeling seemed to be to a change. A sentiment 
not difficult to understand, where constitutional 
impulse governed, overcoming reason, because it 
always was in agreement with that self-respect 
which preponderated with the poet about his own 
works. 

His mode of life at Sydenham was mostly uni- 
form with that which he afterwards followed in 
London, when he made it his constant resi- 
dence. He rose not very early, breakfasted, 
studied for an hour or two^ dined a couple or 



74 LITERARY REMIlilSCSNCSS AND 

three hoars after noon, and then made calls in 
the village, oftentimes remaining for an hour or 
more at the house of a maiden lady of whose con- 
versation he was remarkably fond. He would 
return home to tea, and then retire again to his 
study, oft;en until a late hour, sometimes even to an 
early one. His life was strictly domestic. He 
gave a dinner party now and then, and at some of 
them Thomas Moore, Bogers, and other Uterary 
friends from town were present. His table was 
plain, hospitable, and cheered by a hearty wel- 
come. In those days he took his wine freely at 
times, when he had company. When he had no 
company, he generally left the table directly after 
dinner was over. 

It was unfortunate that his habits of study were 
not long fixed upon any subject, but were dis- 
cursive, and were not directed to carry out a single 
object to the end. In the course of investigation 
upon one topic, some incident would intervene 
which tempted him to a different pursidt for a 
time, and such an inclination he could not resist. 
It is impossible to bring much to pass under a 
similar system^ when the propensity becomes un- 
controllable ; and this was continually the case 
Ttrith Campbell, and was one reason why he 
produced so little fruit. The revision of his 
lectures on poetry was once laid by in this manner 



M£MOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 75 

for a year^ during which period he produced no 
more than a few verses. He spent as much time 
over his books as usual^ following some object of 
momentary curiosity, that generated a second 
novelty and a new research. This was adding to 
his knowledge at the expense of the gratification 
of others. His classical acquirements he did not 
follow up in the dry way of those scholars who 
devote their attention to words alone; he laboured 
after the true sense and meaning of the writers of 
antiquity, and if he found he differed from the 
translators upon any passage, he was not easy 
until he had reconciled his mind to his own ex- 
planation, or to that of another equally satisfac- 
tory. He cared little about the pronunciation of 
classical words. In Scotland he said that the 
Latin was pronounced nearer the Italian than in 
England. He disapproved of the incessant 
changes in the pronunciation of English. A 
hundred years ago, the first letter of the alphabet 
was pronounced much broader and more correctly 
than it is at present. This might be seen by ex- 
amining the terminating words of the lines in the 
poets — ^in Pope, for example. He was of opinion 
that the modem Romaic must be a better criterion 
of the pronunciation of the Greek, than the fancies 
of English schoolmen, who would vary that tongue 



76 LITERAUr UEMIKISCENCES AND 

and the Latin too^ according to the mutation of 
the English. 

Campbell^ it is scarcely credible^ was one day 
at a loss how to pronounce Ale^andria^ believing 
the common mode^ or that in the old grados^ not 
to be correct. With him there was a species of 
doubt generated sometimes upon very obvious 
and trivial points. Stating to him I had heard 
Dr. Farr pronounce the word Alexandria, 
the poet was pleased. " It must be so/' he ob- 
served, "though I am no judge in England, and 
set no store upon what the schoolmen deem so 
precious : I shall always take care to pronounce 
it Alexandria in future. I see the gradus has 
made it so in later editions." 

While he lived at Sydenham, or at least during 
a portion of the time, there resided in that village 
Thomas HiU, a well-known character in some 
circles in London, for more than half a century. 
He was a sort of walking chronicle. He knew 
the affairs of literary men, what they were at 
work upon, and could retail a vast deal more 
about them and their doings than they knew 
themselves. There was no newspaper office into 
which he did not find his way, no third-rate 
scribbler of whom he did not know the business 
at the moment. But his knowledge was not con- 
fined to literary men, he knew almost all the 



MEMOIES Olf THOMAS CAMPBELL. 77 

world of any note, in his own belief at least, and 
this belief always, after a certain time, grew with 
him into indisputable fact. It was said of him 
that if he stood at Charing Cross at noonday he 
would tell the name and business of every body 
that passed Northumberland House. He died of 
apoplexy in the Adelphi, at the age of eighty, 
few supposing him more than sixty. He was a 
man of few acquirements and no little vanity. 

At the table of this odd personage at Syden* 
ham, there used to meet occasionally a number 
of literary men and choice spirits of the age. 
Colman, John and Leigh Hunt, Dubois, James 
and Horace Smith, Mathews, Barnes, afterwards 
editor of the ^' Times " paper, Barron Field, and 
others. There was to be found Theodore Hook, 
giving full swing to his jests at the expense of 
every thing held cheap or dear in social life, or 
under conventional rule. The poet living hard 
by, could not, in the common course of things, 
miss being among those who congregated at 
Hill's. Bepartee and pun passed about in a 
mode vainly to be looked for in these degenerate 
days at the most convivial tables. Some practical 
jokes too were played off there, which, for a long 
time afterwards, formed the burden of after- 
dinner conversations. Campbell was behind none 
of the party in spirits. He entered with full zest 



78 LITEBAHT REMmiSCENCES AND 

into the pleasantries of the hour. Upon one 
occasion, some of the party leaving Sydenham 
to return home by Dulwich, to which they were 
obliged to walk for want of a conveyance, those 
who were to remain behind in Sydenham escorted 
their friends to the top of the hill to take leave, 
in doing which the poet's residence had to be 
passed. But he scorned to leave his friends. 
All went on to the parting-place on the hill sum- 
mit, exchanging jokes, or manafacturing indif- 
ferent puns. When they separated it was with 
hats off and three boisterous cheers ; Campbell, 
snatching off his hat, *'not wisely but too well," 
pulled off his wig with it, and thence to enhance 
the merriment upon the occcasion, flung both up 
in the air amidst unbridled laughter. Thus in 
spirits as in every thing besides, he displayed his 
natural character, the reverse of equaUty — the 
being of impulse in all. There was this, how- 
ever, in the poet's temperament, that all he did 
was with a good heart. He expressed himself, 
too, hke a " good hater," if Sir Walter Scott's 
story of bim be true, when he repeated " Ho- 
henlinden " to Leyden. " Tell the fellow I hate 
him; but, dash him, he has written the finest 
verses that have been pubUshed these fifty years." 
Scott delivering the message to Campbell, got for 
iMTell Leyden I detest him ; but I know 




MEMOIRS OF THOMA.S CAMPBELL. 79 

the value of his critical approbation.*' Leyden 
was an overrated man, but as a linguist possessed 
considerable acquirements, which were much 
puffed by his countrymen, though as it. required 
more than one language to supply his incessant 
volubility, this was well. He was also somewhat 
of an antiquary, a great botanist, and partly a 
coxcomb, if one may judge from his denomi- 
nating Sir William Jones an *^ elegant humbug.'* 
He was a medical officer in the East India service, 
and died from exposure to the noxious climate of 
one of the islands in the tropics. The ground of 
his difference with Campbell is shown hereafter, 
and a man of such little sensibility himself might 
easily wound that of the poet. About the year 
1804, Campbell's Edinburgh friends seem for a 
time to have lost sight of him and his labours. 
Jeffirey writes in that year to Homer, to know 
what the poet was doing, and whether he was 
about anything. 

He had now composed his nobler odes, the 
'' Battle of the Baltic," and the naval ode, '' Ye 
Mariners of England," which, with '' Hohenlin- 
den," stands unrivalled in the varied and ex- 
tensive range of British poetry. Witl;i the odes 
of Dryden, they are, from their style, nature, and 
subject, wholly out of the pale of comparison. 
Condensation of language, energy of expression. 



80 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

and loftiness of thought, are combined in the odes 
of Campbell to an extent rendering them produc- 
tions worthy .of ancient Greece. In these none of 
the diffuseness of the modern school of verse is 
observable. There is a concentrated simplicity of 
language about them which admits no novel 
words, no far-fetched smiles. They were not of 
such a length as to exhaust the energy of the 
poet, but just of the amplitude to combine its 
full action. The eflFect is wrought out by combi- 
nations that make the result a wonderment ; ap- 
parently so easy and yet so novel, simple, and 
yet thrilling. The " Pleasures of Hope " may be 
excelled, the gentle " Gertrude " outvied, but it 
does not seem probable that the odes of Campbell 
can ever be surpassed, because it is hardly pos- 
sible for genius and language — the English lan- 
guage at least — in true simplicity of character to 
go further, though the English is capable of all 
that ' any modern language can do. Their sim- 
plicity of expression engraves them in every 
heart ; the unlearned comprehend them at once, 
and the bosom of the patriot glows at the love of 
country which exhales from every line. 

In referring to these odes, it is hardly possible 
to overlook a recent censure respecting them cast 
upon Campbell. I refer in Lord Brougham's 
volume of characters to that of Johnson. Lord 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 81 

Brougham^ it is well known^ can give opposite 
characters to the same individual^ as in the case of 
George IV. Hence it might be thought hardly 
worth while to notice the charity of his feelings 
and his wonted inaccuracy in the present in* 
stance. These might be left to their place in the 
same category with the inconstancy of his friend- 
ships and the instability of his politics, but that 
Lord Brougham is no common example of talent, 
at times unhappily perverted, and of heartless- 
ness united with the assumption of high sensi- 
bilities. His lordship has^ perhaps, admirers of a 
similar constitution to his own, destitute of his 
talents, but inflexible in their admiration of him, 
out of a common sympathy. It is impossible not 
to wish that they may not have the excuse of 
ignorance for their mistaken worship. 

In the passage given out of Lord Brougham's 
book in the note below,* there is an obscurity of 

* The following is the text and note of Lord Brougham 
to which reference is made : — 

" The art of translation, in which Johnson's love of ac- 
curacy qualified him to excel, as well as his facility of 
pointed composition, was possessed in a much higher degree 
by Pryden than either by Johnson or indeed by any one 
else. That he was unequal in his yersions, as in all his 
workR, is certain, and his having failed to render in per- 
fection the dictionof Virgil, which can hardly be approached 
in any modem tongue but the ItaXiar^ is no reason for 

VOL. I. G 



82 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

meaning which adds no grace to his lordship's cri- 
tical abilities. Johnson's facility of points com- 

overlooking his extraordinarj genins displayed in this 
most difficult line. I haye always read with pain the re- 
marks on Dryden's translations, or rather on his ' Yirffl,' 
in Mr. CampbeU's 'Essay on English Poetry,' and the 
rather that when estimating Dryden's power as a trans- 
hitor, he scarcely mentions his ' Juvenal^ and says nothing 
at aU of his ' Otfid ' and ' LncBEmrs ;' these^ with ' Ju- 
Tenal,' being past all doubt amongst his greatest works. 
Bat indeed he consigns to equal silence the immortal ode 
which, with the exception of some passages in Milton, is 
certainly the first poem in oar language. Had Mr. 
Campbell expressed himself coldly of such translations* 
— snch metrical doers into craU»ed and unpoetica] English 
as hare of late been praised, merely because readers igno- 
rant of Italian wish to read Dante without the help of a 
dictionary — he might more easily have been forgiven. To- 
wards Dryden he is wholly unjust, nor had he apparently 
a due ralne for the poetry of Johnson. He includes the 
* Vanity of Human Wishes ' among the specimens, but he 
nerer mentions Johnson at all among the poets whom he 
commemorates. Bestowing so disproportionate a space upon 
Goldsmith, renders it plain that he undervalued Johnson. 
Tot though Goldsmith is superior to him, they are too near 
in merit, and come firom schools too much alike to authorise 
him who sets the one so high to neglect or undervalue the 
other." 

* "1 had often found in my deceased friend a dispo- 
sition to undervalue this great ode. At length it broke 
out the last time I saw him him, just before he went to 
Boulogne, where he died. He expressed himself with great 
bitterness of attack on the bad taste of the world for ad- 



i 



M£MOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 83 

* position must be abandoned to the printer and his 
extra pointings for any other meaning it offers. 
Dryden's " Virgil " has not been praised enough 
by Campbell in his " Essay on Poetry,*' when 
estimating the poet's power as a translator — so 
says his lordship. Now Lord Brougham ought 
to have known on better authority than his own, 
if not in law at least in literature, that scholars 
have long sanctioned a judgment similar to that 
of Campbell^ powerful and brilliant as many pas- 
sages in Dryden's " Virgil " unquestionably are, 
considered as poetry. Campbell was giving a 
scholar's opinion of the translation in a cursory 
manner, because his *^ Essay'' was necessarily 
brief, in accordance with his design. In corrobo- 
ration of Campbell's judgment, only restraining 
his own breathless desire for rapidity of writing, 
had his lordship turned to the " Life by Pitt," he 

miring it so highly ; no one could doubt that his jealousy 
was persotially irritated: k feeling wholly unworthy of 
one who had written his admirable songs. I trust that 
nothing in the text may be supposed to have been written 
with any disrespect towards Mr. Campbell's 'Essay,' 
which is a work in every respect worthy of its author. 
Many of the critical observations have the peculiar delicacy 
which might be expected from so eminent a poet. Many 
parts of it are written withmuch felicity of diction. Some 
passages show all the imagination of a truly poetical 
genius. The description, for instance, of a ship launch is 
fine poetry in all but the rhythm.'' 

G 2 



84 LITERARY REMINISCBNCES AND 

would have found Johnson summing up the 
merits of Dryden's and Wharton's '^Virgils/' 
'* Pitt," says Johnson, " engaging as a rival with 
Dryden, naturally observed his failures, and 
avoided them : and as he wrote after Pope's 
^ Iliad,' he had an example of an exact, equable, 
and splendid versification.'' He then goes on to 
say, " If the two versions are compared, perhaps 
the result would be that Dryden leads the reader 
forward by his general vigour and sprightliness, 
and Pitt often stops him to contemplate the ex- 
cellence of a single couplet ; that Dryden's faults 
are forgotten in the hurry of delight, and that 
Pitt's beauties are neglected in the languor of a 
cold and lifeless perusal ; that Pitt pleases the 
critics, and Dryden the people; that Pitt is 
quoted, and Dryden read." So much for Lord 
Brougham's censure of Campbell, who was of the 
same opinion as Johnson. It cannot but be pain* 
ful to make unfortunate rejoinders of this sort, to 
assertions arising, it is to be feared, out of breath- 
less eagerness for writing something. Lord 
Brougham has never been exemplary for exact- 
ness of investigation, patience in research, or 
amenity in delivering his sentiments. But he 
might have known that time has generally con- 
firmed the criticisms of Johnson. Still more 
unhappily for Lord Brougham, Johnson is not 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 86 

unsupported by the judgment of others. So er- 
roneous was Dryden in his translation of the 
" Georgics " and " Eclogues," says Pope, to 
quote his words, '^ that nothing could haye made 
Mr Dryden capable of such mistakes but extreme 
haste in writing, which never ought to be im- 
puted as a fault to him, but to those who suffered 
so great a genius to lie under the necessity of it." 
Lord Brougham seems, besides, never to have read 
the prefiEice to Wharton's " Virgil !" 
. But Lord Brougham states that it is not from 
Dryden's " Virgil '' alone that his opinion of that 
poet as a translator is formed, and upon which^ 
it is presumable, he jumps to his conclusions. 
Campbell, who, in a condensed '^ Essay upon 
Poetry," naturally intended to be general, and 
never dreamed of mentioning every original 
or translated piece of the poets he enumerated, 
has, in addition to slighting ** Virgil,'' according 
to Lord Brougham, heinously passed over Dry- 
den*8 "Juvenal," his *' Ovid," and even his 
" Lucretius,*^ one of the poet's " greatest works," 
in estimating his power as a translator. Can any 
thing be more absurd — more ignorant ? Out of 
sixteen books of which "Juvenal'' consists, five 
only (with Persius added) were translated by 
Dryden — only five ! except some fine passages in 
these, which-must naturally occur where so great 



86 LITEBABT RSHINISCENCES AND 

a poet was the traiiBlator, Johnson ohseires, a 
hetter representation of the Latin author ma^ be 
given. The " Fersios " is designated by Johnson 
as written merely for wages, " in an nniform me- 
diocrity." Of Ovid's Epistles only one was the 
translation of Dryden, and of the fifteen books of 
the Metamorphoses only two were &ora his pen, 
thongh in five or six books besides, his name was 
associated with other translators, most hkely to 
afford the whole work an access of popularity 
£:om his connexion with them, without his doing 
any more than two. The " Lucretius " which 
Campbell is accused of neglectuig to drag un- 
necessarily into his limited " Essay," the world 
will be obliged to Lord Broi^ham to print, as it 
is at present wholly unknown, because Dryden 
never translated " Lucretius " at all !* 

But Campbell did not notice nor copy " Dry- 
den's Ode." "What ode we are not told; Alex- 
ander's Feast, it is presumed, though Johnson 
declared the ode to the memory of Mrs. Killigrew, 

* Ip Dryden's poems there sre liitj-fiTe lines of one 
book, tortj-eiglit of another, and eighteen of a. third, Iwing 
isolated pamafTM from " LncretiaB," perhaps done as 
ezercisee. Sorely Lcvd Brougham will not hare reeoone 
t<i tlieso as a scapf^'oat l<jr Lis blimder, bf making them 
paaa for a poem of sii books and seren thoasand lineB. 
Yet who knows how far hia "friendship " to Campbell 
D"***^! OMry him. f 



rj 




MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 87 

by the same poet^ to be the noblest in the language. 
The "ode," whichever it be. Lord Brougham 
says, "with the exception of some pcissages in 
Milton, is certainly the first po^m in our language/' 
Are "some poems'* of Milton not intended, 
or are " passages " synonymous with poem ?" 
Whichever it be, the lucidness of the expression 
is commensurate with the misrepresentation, nor 
will the ex-cathedra delivery of Lord Brougham's 
opinion mend the matter. The alliance of his 
lordship with poetry or any thing poetical will be 
pronounced by the literary world a very great 
absurdity. 

Campbell did not intend to select the best 
specimens from each poet, but only to give such 
as Ellis and Headly had neglected* It is rather 
hard that Lord Brougham should reverse an 
author's intentions to suit his own purposes. An- 
other charge is, that Campbell did not estimate 
the poetry of Johnson nearly as high as that of 
Goldsmith — who ever did ? Few who know what 
poetry is, would admit Johnson to a poetical place 
above the lower step of the temple of the muses. 
Lord Broughlfm thus furnishes another happy 
illustration of his qualification for a poetical 
critic. 

But all this is trivial to the characteristic note 
rendered so striking by its exuberance of charity. 



S8 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

Nothing can exhibit more forcibly the heartless- 
ness of its author. In numberless conversations, 
during a long intimacy^ with the business of 
literature continually present, aipid numberless 
references to the poets of the Augustan age, aa 
some call it, Dryden again and again mentioned, 
never did I see one atom of that envious spirit 
shown towards " glorious John," which Lord 
Brougham attributes to the dead poet. Was it 
probable that Campbell should be jealous of the 
poets of the seventeenth century so long departed 
— that he should exhibit the jealous temper re- 
garding them thus gratuitously attributed to him ? 
The poet's last years were marked by considerable 
irritability and decay of bodily and mental power, 
and on some occasions he might have exhibited 
an occasional weakness, but a weakness like that 
of which Lord Brougham speaks so confidently as 
to the motive is perfectly incredible. True, it is 
impossible to deny what Lord Brougham asserts 
respecting the poet's idea that the world over- 
valued " Alexander's Feast," for the poet being 
where no wisdom, knowledge, and, happily, " no 
device " reacheth, cannot affirm or contradict such 
an assertion of his opinion, innocent enough if 
spoken. The charitable inference as to the motive, 
the " why " Campbell was of that opinion, 
Brougham-like as it is, no one, having as good a 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 89 

right to judge, and who well knew the poet, will 
credit. The ode bore not the remotest resemblance 
to any of Campbell's writings so as to provoke his 
jealousy. Dryden, a century and a half old, 
Campbell had studied, together with all the poets 
of the earlier time, for the sa&e of his own im- 
provement, as being masteis in their art. It is 
monstrous that if Campbell did express a convic- 
tion in a desultory conversation that the ode was 
overvalued, the motive should be attributed to a 
feeling wholly *' unworthy " of him. It was not at 
all like one that would actuate the poet ; his judg- 
ment was ever sound enough to tell him that no 
parallel could exist between his own and any of 
Dryden's odes to make him jealous of them. They 
bear no resemblance in character or subject ; they 
are odes in common, that is all. Every other 
breathing creature of God^s workmanship, except 
Lord Brougham, would have felt how great is the 
descent in honourable feeling with those who 
attribute injurious motives to others. To Lord 
Brougham such things may be but too common. 
In the present case his recklessness has the conso- 
lation that its perfect detection is impossible. If 
the poet did not live to witness the want of com- 
mon charity shown to himself, he lived to witness, 
unhappily for Lord Brougham, that development 
of his lordship^s character which a " friend " once 



J 



90 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

prophetically shadowed forth. Lord Brougham 
has not shown now^ for the first time^ that ^* evil 
be thou my good," is balm to his wounded pride, 
as it before proved to an erring spirit of a more 
exalted nature. 

In any other country but England, the compo- 
sition of " Gertrude " would render the locality 
of Sydenham renowned. It occupied the poet 
but little more than a*twelvemontb, and was begun 
about 1807. It combines in itself the best charac- 
teristics of the classic and romantic styles, in that 
just medium which forms the truest principle for 
modern poetry. There is less glitter in " Ger- 
trude " than in the " Pleasures of Hope." It 
has not isolated passages equal in sentiment and 
imagery, perhaps, to some that might be culled 
from the rich garland of the " Pleasures of Hope," 
but it is full of tenderness and feeling, equable, 
nowhere passionate ; it is more uniformly invested 
with the graces of the poetical fancy ; it is an un- 
ruffled lake, reflecting with accuracy of hue and 
outline all those beauties with which the imagina- 
tive soul of genius can clothe a plain and affecting 
incident ; all the charms to which a sensitive and 
cultivated heart responds with that delight which 
is a mystery in human enjoyment, seeming to 
behold, as through summer mist, glorious but un- 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 91 

defined images of things that belong to a myste- 
' rious and invisible world. 

The Spenserian stanza, in a certain degree^ 
hampered the poet's freedom in this beautiful 
Indian tale, full of nature, and redolent with 
fragrance from the richest bouquets of fancy. 
There is seen here, divested from drapery, that 
sensitiveness which belonged to the poet^s own 
character, however concealed from general obser- 
vation, and therefore by some, perhaps, not 
thought a characteristic of him, because it was 
not blazoned forth in every word and action. 
Campbell thought deeply and felt keenly. The 
poet was by nature miserly of his sensations; he 
was continually looking inwards, and meditating 
oftentimes painfully upon things that would not 
touch men in general. Nervous, indolent tem- 
peraments keep their joys and sorrows under lock 
and key ; sometimes a feeling of pride makes 
them imagine that others will think they make 
too much of what is of little moment, while they 
themselves set little value upon what they are 
aware others deem of infinite consequence. 

While mentioning this poem, it is necessary to 
revert to a part of the poet's history which it is 
difficult to clear up. A misunderstanding with 
Mundell and Co., led that house to withhold the 
voluntary present made to the poet of twenty -five 



92 LITERART REMINISCENCES AND 

guineas per thousand^ made him on each edition 
of his ** Pleasures of Hope/* when the impres- 
sion reached a thousand copies. What then was 
the cause of the misunderstanding ? 

The surviving partner of the house of Mundell 
and Co.^ already mentioned^ wrote me to the fol- 
lowing effect: — 

"Dear Sir, 

*' You had a note from me about the pub- 
lication of * Gertrude.' It is necessary to tell 
you Campbell had first sold* Mundell and Co. 
a poem for a sum, and then sold Longman and 
Co. a poem for a like sum. When Longmans 
heard this they cancelled their bargain with 
Campbell, and then MundelPs plan was adopted, 
which pleased all parties, by settling the poem on 
the family, as you see has been done. 

** I am, dear sir, 

" Yours most respectfully, 
"A. Stirling." 
" C. Bedding, Esq." 

* Query, contracted for poems, one with each house, 
by which he must have disobliged Mundell, or his London 
agents, Longman P About 1807, after his marriage, the 
above arrangement was effected, for both his sons were 
alive. The projected poems offered to the two booksellers 
were probably neither of them undertaken, as " Gertrude " 
was not begun until 1806 or 7. 



L 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 93 

The proposal above made, Mr. Stirling says, 
alluded to " Gertrude of Wyoming/* The an- 
swer of Campbell to the house of Mundell was 
as follows — unluckily, no date was sent me 
anexed to it. 

" Alexander Mundell, Esq. 

" Sir, I am extremely sorry that any mis- 
understanding should have arisen between Mun- 
dell and Co. and myself, on account of the poems 
which I am about to publish, and am ready to 
declare, in the most implicit manner, that they 
are not to blame for the misunderstanding, and 
that, on the contrary, their conduct towards me, 
as booksellers, has always been fair and liberal. 

" Your proposal that these poems should be 
settled on my wife and children, and the copy- 
right secured for their benefit in such a man- 
ner that no act of mine should afterwards 
affect it, accords so very much with my wishes, 
that I accept it without hesitation, and I cannot 
but express how grateful I feel to you for having 
proposed to. settle our difference on so kind and 
liberal a footing. 

" I am. Sir, 

" With great respect, 
** Your humble servant, 
'« T. Campbell." 



9i LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

This poem was published in quarto^ in 1809 ; 
a second edition in l^mo. appearing in the fol- 
lowing year. It was kindly received by the 
public^ and particularly by the Whig party, to all 
the leading men of which Campbell was person- 
ally known, and with most on terms of close inti- 
macy. Mackintosh, in India when " Gertrude " 
appeared, and Lord Holland, were among the 
heads of the party to whom Campbell was most 
attached. The circulation did not range as ex- 
tensively as that of the " Pleasures of Hope." 
Party spirit ran high, so high no one in these 
days would give credit to it. . Though the poem 
was not damned in the Quarterly^ as it ought to 
have been, according to many of those who were 
arrayed under that flag, the praise of the Ediri' 
burgh and the declaration of the author's Whig 
principles were against its ciroulation. It has 
been subsequently reported that Scott reviewed 
the poem in the first number of the Quarterly y 
and that as this great man never knew rancour in 
his literary dealings, he spared Campbell, the 
Whig poet, thus forgiving the politics, for the sake 
of the poetry. In those days this, if true, was 
not always the magnanimity shown by political 
partizans. 

Similar defects are found repeated in "Ger- 
trude of Wyoming/' even in a more glaring man- 



J 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 95 

Tier than they were observable in the " Pleasures 
of Hope/* and more open to criticism. The poet 
was inexcusably negligent in not extending his 
researches into the natural history of the country 
wherein the scene of his delightful poem is laid. 
The panther of the torrid zone in the old world 
is placed in the woods of Ohio in the new, when 
there is no such animal in the United States — 
nothing but an ounce-like cat called the jaguar, 
and that rarely seen even in the south. The 
cougar, or puma, an animal somewhat resembling 
the leopard, is only known south of Mexico, or 
scarcely north of the Isthmus of Darien. The 
productions of the far south are introduced into 
Pennsylvania. The flamingo disports at Wyoming, 
and the aloe and palm-tree are introduced into a 
new latitude. Denizens of the tropics, the severe 
climate of Pennsylvania will admit no such acces- 
sories, not even plants that will flourish in En- 
gland. Campbell probably overlooked the fact of 
the continent of America embracing every climate. 
Many are apt to forget the relations of a territory 
so vast. The United States and Canadas were 
long, it was true, styled "North America" ex- 
clusively, the Spanish territories being a sealed 
book to the rest of the world. But in " Gertrude 
of Wyoming," a poem for all time, that as know- 
ledge advances, will exhibit the error more and 



96 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

more, from the numerical increase of readers 
versed in natural history, this is the deeper to be 
lamented. Campbell was made aware of his mis- 
takes from seeing them pointed out in reviews at 
home and in America. Were an American to 
lay the scene of a tale in England, and introduce 
the tiger and date-tree as natural productions, 
it would be thought in England, as of this in 
America, no excusable error. Still, with this fault 
the glory of the poem is not obscured ; no one 
expects the best things to be faultless. Yet it is 
because ^' Gertrude " is so glorious a poem, and 
will be so lasting, that to avoid lamenting such 
blemishes have an existence is impossible. 

It was in July 1810, that the poet lost his 
second son, Alison, of fever. A very deep afflic- 
tion, which he was a great while in subduing. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 97 



CHAPTER IV. 

Campbell's introduction to Byron. — Lectures at the !Royal 
Institution. — ^Analysis of their nature. — First, poetry 
in general. — Second, Hebrew poetry. — Third, Greek 
poetry.— Fourth, Classical poetry. — Fifth, Lyric and 
Epic poetry. — Sixth, Oracular poetry. — Seventh, called 
by Campbell the Ninth, the Athenian drama. — Tenth 
and last, Euripides. 

[N unforeseen event took place in the year 
1811, to which Campbell, owed his intro- 
duction to Byron. A hostile epistolary 
communication had taken place, or one in a spirit 
which bordered upon hostile feeling, between 
Byron and Moore. The last, with the heat of his 
countrymen, was for settling the grievance with 
gunpowder, to prove his quarrel just. He did not 
ask himself whether Jeffrey was, or was not justified 
in vindicating truth and virtue, by censuring, as it 
was his duty to do, the gi'oss licentiousness of 

VOL. I. H 




98 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

Little's poems. He called out Jeffrey^ and the wits 
of the day had their jokes about Chalk Farm^ and 
the pistols and bullets. Byron^ who then knew 
nothing of Moore personally^ had a fling at the 
duellists in his attack on Jeffrey, and spoke about 
"Little^s leaden pistols." Moore could not 
relish this, which he should have borne quietly, 
considering how much he was in the wrong on 
the score of morals. Having sought an expla- 
nation from Byron, Rogers had arranged the 
difference to the satisfaction of the disputants, 
who had never seen each other, but were about 
to meet the same day for the first time at the 
classical table of Rogers. Campbell chancing to 
call upon Rogers the same day, the dinner was to 
take place, received an invitation to meet Byron 
and Moore. Accordingly they all four met in 
this singular manner. Four names standing so 
high for poetical celebrity hardly ever before met 
in 80 unforeseen a manner, and certainly never at 
a more hospitable taUe. This year, too, Campbell 
made the acquaintance of Sir Thomas Lawrence. 
In 1811, the poet agreed to give lectures at the 
Royal Institution, at twenty guineas each lecture ; 
they were to be five in number, and to be de- 
livered in the spring of the next year. In these 
lectures he did not carry out the plan he origi- 
nally projected, which was to proceed from 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 99 

general principles to the poetry of the Hebrews, 
and down to that of comparatively modem times. 
The latter would not have included any poet 
later than the end of the eighteenth century^ in 
England or on the continent. This scheme he 
only half fulfilled. The truth was, that he 
could not continue a long labour upon one 
subject — it was not in his nature to draw a long 
breath — it fatigued him, and at length made him 
flag, and viewing the task he had set himself 
about with distaste, he hardly ever carried out 
his original design. Indeed, considering the 
number of years he devoted himself to literature, 
the quantity he brought to pass was, comparatively, 
very little. He too often found substances in 
shadows. He talked of labours never to be 
performed, and of the fatigues that arose from 
idle studies and readings out of the business in 
hand. The time he took in polishing the " Plea- 
sures of Hope," and in completing his poem of 
" Gertrude," is easily conjectured ; and making 
full allowance for this, all he executed besides 
amounted to little, compared to the time set 
against it. His lectures cost him considerable 
labour. He would read upon some particular 
point, in which he desired to be satisfied, and 
while thus reading, meet with a novelty, and 
run after it for a day or two, reading and talking 

H S 



100 LITEBABY REMINISCENCES AND 

of nothing dae, and return after much loss of 
time to the main object of his pursuit. Then he 
had to refresh his memory in regard to what he 
had abandoned, and had scarcely got into the main 
track again before a fresh divergence would 
happen. Thus to his Mends, verbally, and in his 
letters, he was always overwhelmed with labours 
of which they coidd see little firuit comparatively, 
and that little, if often really excellent, by no 
means justified the price in time and labour which 
he produced the impression of its having cost. 
Thus, while re-composing his lectures, he made 
references to Gesenius and Michealis, and read 
them through, raising doubts foreign to the existing 
purpose, and lost time by seeking to settle them. 
All scholars are aware how time fleets in such a 
course. His lectures were delivered with conside- 
rable success, for though he read well, being a little 
irregular in enunciation, he was effective, and was 
heard with applause. He got ready for delivering 
a second series. He was also nominated Professor 
of Poetry to the Royal Institution ; proceeding at 
the same time under his characteristic slowness 
with his specimens of the poets for the prince of 
bibliopolists, Murray. It is a fact for which I 
cannot account, except its interference with his 
specimens, that in 18S0-1, Campbell should have 
begun to re-compose these lectures on poetry, at 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 101 

least so far as he really did go in publishing them. 
He must hare destroyed the original MS. He 
got tired of his task, and entirely neglecting them 
in the course of the year 1836, broke off and re- 
sumed them no more. He collected books from 
all quarters, and talked largely of continuing the 
subject, at one time, as far as regarded England, 
from William of Malmsbury ; but, as was las way, 
he made no adequate progress in carrying out his 
intentions, even in regard to England. 

As these lectures were written and delivered 
at this time, 1812, the mention of them demands 
in this place a brief analysis of their nature, 
the order of dates being duly observed. Of the 
lectures, Byron said, '* Campbell talks of lecturing 
next spring. His last lectures were eminently 
successful. Moore thought of it, but gave it up, 
I don't know why. ♦ * » had been prating . 
dignity to him and such stuff, as if a man disgraced 
himself by instructing and pleasing at the same 
time.'* It was his intention, when he had finished 
the classics, ancient and British, to have gone 
into a series of lectures upon the poetry of those 
other nations of modem times, with the literature 
of which he had an acquaiatancev ' This was for 
him easier said thati done, not for want of ability, 
but of persev^ance, composition being oftentimes 
almost a punishment. I have eeen him labour 



102 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

almost with pity, because he could not proceed 
more satisfactorily to himself. His imagination 
was active enough; but his incapacity for protracted 
exertion marred with him many well-conceived 
designs. At one time he planned and communi- 
cated to the writer of this volume a work which 
should embrace a history of man^ his physical 
wants, and the requisites for his supply from the 
cradle to the grave, in and out of the pale of civi- 
lization, exhibiting the differences in each state. 
Such an elaborate undertaking it would have cost 
him his whole life to execute. 

His opening lectures, of which a brief analysis, 
as I have observed, may not be out of place, were 
devoted primarily to certain general remarks upon 
poetical composition. He entered at some length 
into a definition of its nature, and the mode in 
which poetry maintains its influence and advan- 
tages over painting and sculpture, notwithstanding 
the effects the last produce by immediate im- 
pression. He spoke of poetry as being the 
religion of nature, under a R]monyme, and its 
object to delight the imagination, separating it 
from every pursuit of language. He exhibited 
how poetry, intermingled with other intellectual 
pursuits, had truth more strictly and directly for 
its object. Thus Shakspeare furnished texts for 
philosophy, and the apothegms of Bacon were orna- 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 103 

mented with figurative illustrations. The meta- 
physics of Locke exhibited poetical descriptions, 
and poetry was more or less diffused throughout 
moral sentiment. Cold imaginations had never 
been among the number of those which had in- 
fluenced mankind, instancing the orator in ap- 
pealing to human passions as indebted to the same 
pervading influence ; and the historian, while 
dealing in fact, giving prominence to striking 
event and heroic character. He thus discrimi- 
nated the limits which separated the labours of 
the muse from history, philosophy, and oratory. 
He explained how poetry produces its effect upon 
the human mind, by " views of the good and evil 
of existence thrown into large masses of light and 
shade" — ^how, on the sensibilities being modified by 
special exceptions and abatements, as in the neces- 
sary adherence of the historian to truth and impar- 
tiality, language ceased to be poetry, the very error 
of feeling being more poetical than its equilibrium. 
Fiction was a distinctive and exclusive attribute 
of poetry, but it must be open and avowed. In 
ethics, rhetoric, oratory and the like, the de- 
tection of a falsehood was a defect ; if it prevailed , 
it was a fraud. In poetry, the illusion of fiction 
was not a deception. In discriminating the end 
of severer pursuits from that of poetry, the in- 
tellectual character of the art was not to be kept 



104 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

out of sight. The truths of the poet's utterance 
were arranged differently from those of demon- 
stration or historical precept; and though ad- 
dressed to the imagination^ yet the understanding 
was not unconcerned in them. Something must 
be done amidst all to obtain the acquiescence of 
the judgment. The term imagination^ therefore, 
must be understood in poetry as a complex power 
of the mind, including fancy to combine and 
taste to arrange. The poet addressed the sympa- 
thies and affections, and if he did not .task the 
understanding, it was not because he had not 
great truths to reveal, but that be was to reveal 
them with easy perspicuity. The lecturer alluded 
to the consequences and effects of poetry, and the 
mode in which it interests. After a full explanation 
of the nature,constitution>and effects of poetry with 
its mode of action and end, that prevailing idea 
of happiness which is still its sovereign feeling, 
lurking even in its .misauthropy, the lecture 
proceeded to treat of language and its harmony, 
with the differences between harmony in prose 
and in verse, and also the necessity of association 
to produce pleasure. The fact was noticed that 
verse had been resorted to ever since language 
was known. Poetry had been the original record 
of human feelings and of all belief. The dif- 
ference between poetry and prose was elegantly 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 105 

and eloquently defined^ and the tendency of verse 
to lead out the ideal and make the thoughts music 
to the mind as well as to the ear. The lecture* 
a model of fine writing and excellence of definir 
tion^ included the remark that the term ^' poetry" 
in its more extensive meaning applied to prose 
fictions when they delighted the imagination. 
The alliance of comedy to poetry was shown, 
though less poetical in the emotions it produced 
than those of our serious sensibility ; the difference 
of epithet too, in prose and poetry, with the 
licence permitted in one and not in the other, in 
this respect, as well as the admission of com- 
pounds, in part the peculiar attributes of poetical 
language and the primeval figurativeness of human 
speech. The cultivation of diction was defended. 
Campbell then stated that he could appro- 
priate no more than one lecture to the treatment 
of poetical subjects abstractedly, and that he 
should be necessitated to pass to the connexion of 
poetry with human improvementj the influence 
which the art receives from civilization, and the 
moral utility it gives back. The first part of the 
question he considered was how far the continued 
progress of knowledge and philosophy was likely 
to influence the future progress of poetry, and its 
power over the human mind. He complained of 
the undefined nature of the term ^^ human civili* 



106 LITERAKY REMINISCENCES AND 

zation," and that the probable degree could only 
be justified by past improyement. He did not 
conceive that the cultivation of poetry and the 
fine arts was only an intennediate st^e to the 
utmost intellectual social excellence. The pro- 
gress of philosophy, it was presumed, would guard 
against relapses into darkness and superstition 
again. In the history of human improvement, 
the poet*s art had preceded all enquiry into moral 
and physical truth, while it had appealed to 
passions interwoven with ignorance. The civili- 
zation that called forth poetry was the recognition 
of certain religious feelings, and the laws of 
moral sympathy. The history of art differed 
from that of science. They who were the first 
imitators of nature, enjoyed the possession of the 
field, and deprived succeeding poets of materials, 
and then the search for novelty had given a ten- 
dency towards decay. With science it was dif- 
ferent, all the knowledge gained tended to the 
acquisition of more. But it struck even at the 
innocent credulities which ran into poetry. Those 
immutable laws, emanatmg from one Supreme 
Being,destroyed the vision of subordinate agencies, 
to which the poet had been before deeply indebted. 
While ignorant of the physical truths of nature, 
the poet's mind was familiar with an impassioned 
agency, and illusions were his which the philo- 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 107 

sopher disenchanted. Poetry may be thus ex- 
pected to exhaust her own resources^ and thence 
the continued progress of civilization may tend to 
limits rather than enlarge the influence of poetry 
upon the human mind. But some believed too 
much in this exhaustion of the materials of poetry. 
Some of its fairest flowers had bloomed in the 
light of civilization^ and the perpetual and spi- 
ritual novelty of which it was susceptible was 
forgot. Our impressions of existence might be 
varied by new likenesses, for the objects it em- 
braced were susceptible of varied combinations 
and associations^ with our moral feelings^ illimi- 
tably. The collective . variety of poetry had 
increased with the social progress^ though the 
excellence of its individual works might not. The 
benefits poetry received from false mythologies 
was instanced^ but the enlightened imagination 
could not be expected to dwell at once compla- 
centljTon resources borrowed from ignorance and 
superstition. Despite these being discarded, 
there were still the powers of mind from whence 
the connection with them had sprung which 
could not be extinguished. There was an in- 
destructible love of ideal happiness in the human 
breast. " Whilst there is a star in heaven, man 
wiU look to it with a day-dream of brighter 
worlds." 



108 LITEBARY BBMINISCENCES AND 

He agreed with Dugald Stewart that the spring 
of all human activity and improvement is the 
faculty of imagination^ and dwelt for a short time 
upon this part of the subject, including the effect 
of poetry on the interests of virtue. 

There is nothing in prose which CampbeU did, 
either in regard to writings analysis, or a philoso- 
phical view of any subject he ever treated, better 
than this his opening lecture. It is, in aU points, 
masterly. He concluded — 

^^ It is, therefore, but a faint eulogium on 
poetry to say, that it only furnishes an innocent 
amusement to fledge the lagging hours of exist- 
ence. Its effects are incalculably more beneficent. 
Besides supplying records of human manners, in 
some respects more faithful than those of history 
itself, it upholds an image of existence that 
heightens our enjoyment of all the pharms of ex- 
ternal nature, and that deepens our sympathies 
with whatever is amiable, or interesting, or vene- 
rable in human character. We cannot alter one 
trait of our bodily forms, but the spiritual im- 
pressions made on the mind will elevate and 
amend the mind itself. And the spirits that 
would devote themselves to be the heroes and be- 
nefactors of mankind, are not likely to be less 
cherished by the philosophy that restrains their 
passions, than by the poetry that touches their 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 109 

imaginations with humane and generous senti- 
ments." 

In the next lecture he began by examining the 
character of the poetry of the earlier nations 
known^ from the commencement of their records, 
as far as any traces of these last remain to our 
times. Hebrew was the dialect of a primitive 
Asiatic speech^ once diffused over five nations of 
the East^ and extending even to Ethiopia. It 
divided itself into three great branches. The 
Aramaish^ whence sprang the Chaldaic and 
Syriac; the Canaanitish Hebrew^ and the Ara- 
bic. The Hebrew and Arabic had exclusively 
come down to the present day. The former trans- 
mitted its early literature to posterity. Though 
Babylon possessed astronomical records nine 
hundred years before Alexander the Greats and 
Egypt and Phoenicia had been the nurseries of 
the arts, all their records have perished. The his- 
torical records of the Heb):ews began a thousand 
years before Herodotus. From the language the 
lecturer proceeded to notice the poetry of the 
Hebrews in a literary point of view, or as a 
human art, abstracted from religious conside- 
rations. 

There were many circumstances favourable to 
poetry among the Hebrews. Their ceremonials 
were eminently calculated to awaken the imagi- 



110 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

nation. The prophetic poets addressed an nnre^ 
fined people^ whose manners were not adapted to 
a standard of taste. The Scriptures were given 
for higher purposes than aesthetic teaching, before 
which the importance of poetry sank into nothing. 
Still a very high value attached to the Hebrew 
muse. She painted the phenomena of nature 
with a lavishness and energy equalled in the com- 
position of no other nation. There W£^ harmony 
in Hebrew poetry, though whether it possessed 
syllabic measures is unknown. The Jewish legis- 
lator was a poet. David was a marked genius in 
the productions of the Hebrew muse, and infused 
a taste for music and poetry beyond any it is to be 
presumed his nation ever before possessed. His 
own psalms, and those composed by others at 
different times, are each to be distinguished. 
Those of David are most interesting to the heart, 
though some of the others may ^ore powerfully 
affect the imagination. The 104th psalm of David 
was a minute and richly-varied picture of the 
creation. The reigns of David and Solomon were 
the most brilliant epoch of Hebrew history. The 
poetry of Solomon was an antithesis of the 
soberest moral thought, and of the most luxuriant 
imagination. In the Proverbs he exhibited his 
sagacity; in the Song of Songs his luxuriant 
fancy ; and in the Preacher his satiety of human 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. Ill 

Tanity. The lecturer then touched upon Hebrew 
prophecy^ and discriminated between the different 
prophets as to the merits of their language, giving 
Isaiah the palm on the whole, his genius going 
further upon the wing and burning longer with a 
steady flame. He moved with grace and beauty, 
under a divine self-possession. Nahum was the 
most classically-poetical of the minor prophets. 
The third chapter of Habakkuk was a model of 
lyric sublimity. The pathetic voice of Jere- 
miah faltered under the mournful accents of his 
prophecy^ and Ezekiel, who followed, was the 
only great poet afterwards, though his grandeur 
was not of the purest character. Daniel departed 
yet further from the old and pure taste of the 
former prophets. In the other prophets down to 
Malachi, the spirit of the Hebrew poetry evi- 
dently declined as divination drew towards its 
conclusion. He|^rew poetry was the denizen of 
nature. The land of the • Hebrews was one of 
poetry, but their creed was one that did not adapt 
them for the cultivation of dramatic and epic 
composition. Though there may have been strains 
among this people on other themes than religion, 
they have not been handed down to our times. The 
Psalms, Proverbs, Solomon's Song, Ecclesiastes, 
and Job, were the only undoubted books of 
poetry, though the prophets mingled poetry and 



112 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

its imagery in their utterances, and were assisted 
by minstrelsy. Their diction was between prose 
and poetry. Campbell then shewed that there 
was a rhythm in Hebrew verse — perfect har- 
mony of thought. Moses was a poet as well as a 
legislator. David created a new era in Hebrew 
poetry. The lecturer then reviewed the poetry 
of Solomon and its imagery ; its morality con- 
fined to the present state of existence, and its 
peculiar character. Thence he concluded with 
characterizing the prophets as already stated. 
Here the poet concluded his second lecture. 

The next lecture treated of Greek poetry, 
which it was impossible to trace up to its earliest 
fountains ; for there were strains in Greece ante- 
rior to the Iliad and Odyssey. He began with 
Homer, and the necessity of its being understood 
that in Homeric times a poet was a singer ; he 
described the office of the bard| and the respect 
in which he was held in the earlier ages of 
Greece ; and his wandering life, through which 
was imbibed a knowledge of human nature and 
of the world. The fact was, that Homer has only 
recorded the names of three poets, and says 
nothing of Orpheus or Musabus, hence his silence 
respecting them has given rise to the idea that he 
preceded both. After a dissertation of some 
length on this part of his subject, and on the cha- 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 113 

racter of Orphic poetry ; on the relation of Greek 
philosophy with poetry ; on the ignorance of the 
ancients respecting Homer himself, and the identity 
of Homer with the poetry carrying his name, his 
composition of both the Iliad and Odyssey were 
upheld by the lecturer. The nature of Greek 
warfare and the character of its heroism in the 
early age of the Trojan war, were touched upon 
in connection with Homer and with the presumed 
state of society under his description, contrasting 
these with the chivalry of th<! middle ages. He 
then examined the differences of character in the 
Iliad, and the skill displayed in the diversity of 
manners, qualities, and dispositions with the perfect 
accordance observed in the delineations of men in 
the bloom of heroism and in advanced senility. 
Next the lecturer touched upon the mythology of 
the poet and its dignified and undignified de- 
scriptions ; he treated of the traditions relative to 
the survivors of the downfall of Troy, especially 
those connected with Ulysses, and the subtle, 
hardy character with which the poet invested 
him, going all through his history in the Odyssey. 
While venturing into the realm of fancy in this 
his second work. Homer was described as the 
long precursor of Virgil and Dante. Scarce any 
conception of romantic poetry existed, the germ 
of which might not be traced to the Odyssey. 

VOL. I. I 



114 LITSILART ]IKXIKISCSNC£S AKD 

Claasical poetiy was censured for its defidency 
in i^ard to the treatment of female character ; 
but, of the specimens alladed to. Homer was by 
&r the best, his descriptions or allusions to social 
existence, in the Odyssey particularly, being in 
many respects pleasing. AH that Homer left 
was interesting, and his pictures of life in the 
Odyssey particularly so. The discoTery of Oys- 
ses by Penelope was dwelt upon; then the 
scenes most repulsiYe were cited ; and the other 
works attributed to Homer were enumerated. 
This part of the poet's fourth lecture was precise 
and learned. In it, too, Hedod, the next poet 
of Greece after Homer, was noticed, and his works 
enumerated by the lecturer; the priority of date 
in their writings was given to Homer. The works 
of Hesiod were then described* 

In his fifth lecture, the migrations of the 
lonians into Greece Proper were noticed, before 
which event it is contended that Homer must 
hare flourished, because he fidled to notice so 
important an event both to Europe and Asia. The 
Ionian and .£olic calonists, there was no doubt, 
presenred his writings. He seems to have fived 
in the infancy of all the arts, though the date 
would ever be a subject of speculation. Civilisation 
was in his day, it is probable, above the horison, 
iirom the date of the Olympiads and the Ionian 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELIi. 115 

commonwealth^ but whether any of its light 
shone upon Homer was doubtful. The fine arts 
were earlier cultivated in Asiatic than in Euro- 
pean Greece. But in Greece Prbper there were 
circumstances that contributed a preparatory in- 
fluence towards the future perfection of her 
poetry. The oracle and the strains which issued 
from Delphi, and made a common bond among 
the Greeks, on a spot where war could not enter, 
and nature was hallowed by associations the most 
imposing, established a local supremacy over 
their religious superstitions. The Pythic, Olym- 
pic, and other games, were calculated to awaken 
the corporeal energies as well as the moral genius 
of the people. The lecturer noticed Crete, the 
earliest civilised among the Greek states; and 
Corinth, with its priestesses of Venus ; then the 
Doric states and dialect; Lacedemon, and the 
causes why Asiatic names predominated so much 
in the Lyric poetry of Greece, commencing about 
seven hundred years before the Christian era, 
exhibiting the principal traits of Greek genius 
between the times of Homer and JBschylus. All 
the lyric poets of Greece were eminent musicians. 
The preceding and old religious hymns of Greece, 
as those of Olen and of Orpheus, were, no doubt, 
a species of lyric poetry of a limited kind. The 
poetry of the most interesting period for its ex- 

I 2 



116 LITEKABT KEMINISCENCES AND 

cellence was matare, while the science of music 
was yet youngs and the crisis of Greek lyrical 
yerse was so distinguished by the excellence of 
its productions^ that it could hardly occur twice 
in the history of the world. It increased rather 
than diminished the influence of poetry over 
society^ and acquired a political importance which 
did not belong to it in the days of Homer. The 
effect the early lyrists produced upon the ancient 
mind was conspicuous ; but the scanty remains of 
their writings preserved to the present day from 
the ravages of bigots and barbarians, gave bat a 
feeble idea of the causes of the great admiration 
they excited. The lecturer then noticed the 
relics that remained to the present day, and the 
regret felt that so much of Greek lyric poetry 
had perished. The varied character of their 
songs would have thrown great light upon the 
national manners, as each description of trade 
and profession had its songs. The principal 
poets were antecedent to the Attic drama. 

The lecturer preceded, in the second part of 
his fifth lecture, to treat of epic poetry in the first 
place, and of the Homeric spirit, and then of 
Hesiod as a mere secondary to Homer, a king-at- 
arms to the real monarch. The Cyclic poets that 
followed these two luminaries of Ghreek poetry 
were next noticed as drawing the themes of their 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 117 

poetry from the events alluded to by Homer and 
Hesiod. Next in order were enumerated the 
writers of epic poetry down to the time of Alex- 
ander the Great ; then the mock-heroic poetry of 
the Greeks, and their taste for parody; the 
extant fragments left of this style being few and 
unsatisfactory. The didactic poetry of Greece 
was next reviewed. The chief Gnomic poets 
were enumerated, and the poet Empedocles 
named as the writer who first gave didactic poetry 
a worthy form, standing too pre-eminent in the ' 
history of philosophy. 

Campbell next, in his sixth lecture^ came to the 
consideration of Oracular poetry, or prophetic 
composition, as another branch of Ghreek poetry. 
Oracles were said to have taught the use of 
heroic measure to the poets. But a cloud of fable 
rested over the very names of the primitive pro- 
phets, and the verses they first brought forward^ 
giving the primitive light of a distinct history> 
were not produced as original compositions, but 
were ascribed to departed genius. Oracles were 
coined under the authority of " prophet poets,*' 
and Bacis foretold the battles of Salamis and 
Plataea. AU manner of prophecies were given 
out at the beginning of the Peloponnesian war. 
The ideas of Plato were stated that love, poetry> 
and prophecy, were the three great branches of 



118 LITEBAKY KEMINISCENCES AND 

divine transport. Dephi was the parent of divi- 
nation, and the Pythoness bathed in the Castalian 
fount to prepare for prophesying. Yet no pro- 
phetic works existed of a high poetical character. 
The Sibylline verses were forgeries, most probably, 
of the early Christians, for they contained pas- 
sages both from the Old and New Testament. 
The Pagans were not likely to forge verses 
against idolatry. Elegiac and lyric poetry next 
came under the lecturer^s review. The poets of 
this class marked out a new era. The lecturer 
was of opinion that the rude music of early 
Greece had previously possessed but a feeble influ- 
ence on its poetry. A mistake of Dr. Bumey 's was 
corrected upon this part of the subject. The effect 
of the ijrric poetry of Greece was exciting, and 
sprang up abundantly as soon as the age was at- 
tuned to perfect melody. Elegiac poetry began in 
the lyric age of Greece, perhaps preceded the 
earlier Greek lyrical poems, at least in the instance 
of Callinus. It was strictly a musical poem, sung 
to instrumental accompaniments. The term 
Elegy was described to be in Greek, applied to 
sterner subjects, than it bears relation to in 
modem times^ and to martial themes, Mimnemus 
being the first elegiast who could be styled plain- 
cive. The war-hymns of Tyrtceus were sung in 
the Greek camp two hundred years after the 
poet's tinj But this was not all. Greek lyric 




MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 119 

poetry comprehended a vast variety in charactej, 
and the lyre accompanied the hymns even to the 
altar^ music being used to set off poetry and 
imprint the sense on the mind, rendering it more 
captivating ; the reverse, it may be observed, of 
the modern practice. This was a very learned and 
exceedingly interesting lecture. 

The next lecture proceeded from the conside- 
ration of the lyric poetry of Greece, to notice the 
Athenian drama exclusively. Campbell resumed 
the lectures after an interval of time, during 
which he wrote a few pieces of poetry. The 
length of time that elapsed was probably the 
cause of his forgetfulness in this enumeration of 
his lectures. He began with -ffischylus, opening 
his particular view in regard to Athens as con- 
nected with Greece, and, with the view of pre- 
paratory illustration, gave a considerable portion 
of preliminsury matter. He noticed the fact that 
exotic poems have ever less charms for an indi- 
vidual than those which are native, and then 
proceeded to consider the Greek mannerjs with a 
view to the easier comprehension of its drama. 
The spirit of the Greek legends and superstitions 
it was necessary to understand, without wading 
through the battles of Greece, or acquiring the 
whole of her mythology. Greece exhibited in 
the rise of the Attic drama a little world of diver- 
sified national character. A comparison might be 



120 LITEBABT REMINISCENCES AND 

drawn, good in some respects, between Athens 
and England. It was a part of the subject to 
point out the influence of democracy in Athenian 
literature, without advocating the defects of that 
species of government. The commerce, laws, 
and institutions of Athens, were praised, and the 
advocates of all gothic abuses, who censure the 
smallest excess of plebeian power, were exposed. 
The whole of Attica would not equal a small 
province of Russia, and yet Athens did in litera- 
ture, in a hundred years, what Russia, for ex- 
ample, is not likely to perform in as many cen- 
turies, making herself supreme in the literature 
of the world. The larger proportion of the 
literature of Greece extant is Athenian. The 
race of her free population never changed amid 
the shock of warfare ; it sprung from her soil. 

Here the lecturer entered into a brief notice of 
Greek history, and of the institutions of Sparta, 
and impugned the advocacy of Sparta and her 
institutions by Mitford, contrasting them with 
those of Athens, enumerating the more prominent, 
and pointing out their want of decency and in- 
nate barbarity. The backwardness of the Spartans 
in the arts was dwelt upon, and the lack of Lace- 
demonian poets, historians, or orators. All was 
to the advantage of Athens. Solon legislated for 
trade upon the free principles to which modem 




MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 121 

nations have not yet arrived. Every one was 
protected under the Athenian laws* There was 
no permission of torture; when the suffrages 
were equals prisoners were acquitted. The dra- 
matic century of Athens was that after the battle 
of Marathon^ which produced Sophocles^ Eu- 
ripides^ and Aristophanes. To the history of 
that century the lecturer first drew attention, in a 
brief sketch of the more remarkable events of the 
period^ and an outline of the political system and 
government^ with the institutions and laws of 
Solon. Here the lecturer went into a long de- 
fence of the policy and laws of the Athenians^ 
controverting the statements of Mitford^ in his 
History of Greece^ eulogistic of the Spartans. 
The population, superficies^ trade^ and manufac- 
tures of Attica^ the gymnastic exercises of the 
poeple, the climate^ the religious and civil archi- 
tecture, the rivers, the very prospect of the city 
from Mount Hymettus, all that could enhance the 
beauty, and elevate the glory of Athens in the 
lecturer's favoured view, were included to 
heighten the merits of the people whom he most 
delighted to honour. 

The Athenian drama being that alone which 
has come down to the present time, as well as that 
which was alone worthy of the name in Greece. 
was next considered. The word " drama,^' of 



122 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

Doric derivation, was first explained, and then the 
question was examined whether tragedy was 
known in Greece anterior to the Attic drama. 
This dispute was more about an age than a thing, 
for it was likely that the Greeks gave the name to 
a simple choral poem older than that drama. The 
Doric and JEolic tragedies were no other than 
simple choruses. The car of Thespis was the 
first stage that separated the player from the 
chorus. The dithyrambics and its three kinds of 
choruses were described. Chcerilus was the first 
tragic poet whose works were written, and for 
whom a theatre was constructed. The Satyric 
drama was founded by Fratinas. All, however, 
-HA ,« d<,« by .*» -ortie. ,f .he gre.. 
stage was little in comparison to what ^schylus 
effected. He stamped the drama with the strength 
and solemnity of his own mind, and was the true 
founder of the Greek stage. He wrote under 
the star of his country's prosperity. With So- 
phocles and Euripides inclusive, Attic tragedy 
was completed, and was in every sense an inven- 
tion of the Athenians. Many accessories of the 
stage were borrowed, it was true, but the Attic 
tragic muse repaid the loan to the world with 
usury. The Temple of Bacchus was then noticed 
as being the first established theatre of the Attic 
drama. Comedy came later than tragedy upon 




MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 123 

the Attic stage, but Sicily bore the palm for its 
invention, Epicharmus, a contemporary of -Sls- 
chylus, being the first writer of regular comedy. 
In this department of the theatre Aristophanes 
stood alone, and his writings could only have 
been fulminated in the widest atmosphere of 
freedom. 

The lecturer was of opinion that Euripides had 
more of the modem conception of subjects of 
tragic interest than jEschylus or Sophocles, de- 
ducing the pathetic and terrible more from^ the 
direct agency of the human passions. The 
Greeks employed more of the resources of art 
to afifect the imagination in the drama than is 
done in modern times. Ideal and general im- 
pressions of grace and grandeur were effects 
studied by the Greeks, yet their characters were 
remarkably intelligible. Athenian tragedy was 
more a feast to the imagination than a mirror to 
nature. The choral parts fatigue, the moderns. 
The plot, though simpler than the modern, had 
terrific situations and terrible bursts of passion. 
The theatre was not an every-day entertainment, 
but was only opened at festivals. The plays 
lasted the entire day, every three tragedies being 
followed by a farce, until the judges awarded the 
prize to the successful candidate. Not merely 
literary men by profession, but public officers. 



124 LITEEAEY ESMINI8CEKCES AND 

and commanders of armies^ were among the 
writers of Athenian plays. Of these there were 
two hundred and fifty of the first class; five 
hundred of the second ; and a corresponding 
number of comedies. 

The lecturer then proceeded to notice the site 
and form of the Dionysiac theatre of Athens^ 
which Plato stated would contain thirty thousand 
spectators. He described the various parts of 
the building elaborately^ and concluded his de*- 
scription by stating that every device known to 
the modern stage was practised by the Greeks. 
Returning again to JBschylus^ the proper founder 
of Grreek tragedy in the eighth, which the lecturer 
misdenominated the tenth lecture^ he continued by 
noticing his birth^ 525 years before Christ, and his 
parentage, but stated that nearly all known about 
him was obscure and perplexing. His decease at 
Gala, in Sicily, was certainly known. The crown- 
ing of the tragic poets was alluded to, and the drama 
in general described as highly national and my- 
thological. The subjects generally chosen were 
described, and the repetition of new dramas upon 
the same subject, ^schylus was supposed to 
have composed his pieces in trilogies, quoting, in 
support of what he advanced, several eminent 
continental authorities, ^schylus merged the 
pathetic in the terrible. Only seven of his hun- 



M£MOIKS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 125 

dred dramas are extant. The *' Prometheus 
Chained " was extolled by the lecturer^ and exa- 
mined in detail at some length. The least in- 
teresting of the great Greek poet's dramas were^ 
in the lecturer's view, the *^ Suppliants/' and the 
" Persians." The tragedy of " Agamemnon/' 
too, was cited by the lecturer, and its leading 
features described. 

The character of Sophocles, as a poet, was the 
subject of the ninth lecture, after mention of the 
scanty information respecting him which has 
reached modem times, and which does not supply 
materials for the most meagre biography. It was 
ascertained that he was bom B.C. 498, and at eight- 
and-twenty gained his first victory in the theatre 
— ^that at sixteen he was remarkable for his 
personal beauty, and led the band that danced 
around the trophy erected for the victory at Sa- 
lamis. In a contest for the tragic crown with 
-Eschylus, the prize was decreed to Sophocles. 
He became a general in the Athenian army ; the 
principal incidents in his life were adverted to ; 
many of his best tragedies were written after 
sixty years of age. The lecturer then entered 
upon the merits of his different works^ and the 
difficulty of giving any idea of them in a trans- 
lation. « Ajax,'' " Philoctetes," the " Electra," 

CEdipus at Coloneus," and *' Antigone,*' were 



iS 



126 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

successively examined^ and at considerable 
length ; thus the ninth lecture concluded. 

£uripides was the subject of Campbell's tenth 
and last lecture. Here a singular instance of the 
lecturer's absence of mind or inattention^ occurs, 
in the fact that he proceeded to the conclusion of 
what he called his " twelfth lecture," in the 
manuscript, without observing that he had de- 
livered only ten. He talked of commencing his 
thirteenth with the poetry of Bome. It was 
observed to him that he claimed credit for more 
lectures than he should do, having skipped two 
numbers, and gone from the seventh to the ninth. 
He had, in fact, given the number of nine to his 
seventh, and made the last half of the ninth so 
given the last half of the seventh. He had never 
thought of looking back to the preceding num- 
bers, and thus omitted numbers eight and nine 
altogether, thinking he had completed twelve when 
he had only finished ten — this was characteristic. 
He began it by a brief account of Euripides and 
his birth on the day of the victory of Salamis, 
but went into a variety of other matters con- 
nected with the drama, and with Athens itself. 
Little about this great poet was known, but it was 
certain that he applied himself early to painting, 
and studied rhetoric. The opinions of the 
lecturer's friends, the two celebrated Schlegels, 



MKMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 127 

were quoted respecting the Greek dramatist. 
Euripides delineated life, not in the lofty ideal 
mode of Sophocles^ but according to individual 
nature, its faults and fashions. The disquisition 
of the lecturer on the merits of Euripides was 
every way worthy of his acquaintance with the 
Greek muse and his critical acumen. Between 
Euripides and Sophocles the line of distinction 
was drawn with the hand of a master. He ob- 
served with great truth, that the difference 
between Euripides and his predecessors in tra- 
gedy, if they may be so called, was, that his 
genius triumphed more in partial than in col- 
lective effect, the Iphigenia in Aulis being a 
bright exception to this judgment. In the whole 
drama, in the entirety of the piece, he was not so 
perfect, but in insulated scenes he was greatly 
superior. Hp was considered the most tragic of 
poets in the sense of pathos. By dealing with 
human passions, and his mastership of the pa- 
thetic, he retains still an interest on the stage, 
while the other dramatic writers of his country 
cannot be reproduced with any effect. Campbell 
was of opinion that he left the drama of Greece 
less perfect than he found it, though dramatic 
poetry must still be deemed his debtor. 

With great research, much beautiful discrimi- 
nation of subject, and charming touches of well- 



128 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

defined criticism and description^ the lecturer had 
every now and then wandered from the imme- 
diate subject as if it were forgotten. Proceeding 
with the Greek lyrics in a manner to instruct, 
and at the same time to delight the hearer, to the 
close of his sixth, and promising to detail more 
about them in a future lecture, he dropped, under 
this promise, all future consideration of them. 

Thefurther consideration of the lyrics postponed, 
he had thus gone on to the Greek drama. This 
he began by an apology for his redundancy, on 
account of his desire to be perspicuous. All at 
once, in giving the heads of Greek history to il- 
lustrate the poetry of the Grecian stage, he went 
off into a dissertation upon the opinions of Mitford 
upon Sparta, opinions which carried their own 
refutation in themselves, and consumed a large 
part of the seventh lecture in anything but the 
professed subject of that lecture. Numerous in- 
accuracies in trifles, which Campbell suffered to 
escape him, would be unaccountable but for the sin- 
gular abstraction which led him to pass over things 
it would appear to others impossible not to detect. 
He was not backward in reference where he had 
doubts on points of moment ; indeed, he was too 
fond of referring to opinions in cases where his 
own was preferable. Had he doubted about a 
hct, it would have been well. He did not doubt, 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 129 

Imt Yds mind ran off at the instant to some other 
topic, when it ought to have been at tlie point of 
hid pen, and then he neglected petty facts in fol- 
leaving up new objects. 

He thus considered the dramattic poetry of 
Gh^eece, and broke off suddeniy with Etufipides. 
This Was to be deplored, because a good part of 
wh^t he gave was a charming addition tx> out stock 
of knowledge relative to Greece, in a very Cbn- 
d^nsed form, the fruit of much researtih. The en- 
thusiasm of Campbell on behalf of the Athenians 
made him throw his whole heart into his theme f 
and, accordingly, it was seen with what vigorous 
eloquence he set out on his task, and proceeded 
to a certain point in the same delightful manner. 
Next> at the termination of the? sixth lectun'e. How 
a change ensued, which afforded a picture of the 
poet's mental' constitution. Everything he flew 
at was widi a vigorous effort ; sometimes he soared 
with the eagle in the glowing intensity 6f the 
nootiday beam ; but he soon began to slacken 
ill his flight, and the piirions, just before so Vigo- 
rous"^ became fatigued, and starcely able to sustain 
him on the wing. Hifir larger design, as to car- 
rying out the lectures after the specimens, to 
which allusion will be made presently, fell to the 
ground. He never proceeded ^ far with them, 
never even to complete the English poets^ much 

VOL. I. K 



130 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

less those of modern nations. This was his way — 
ardent in planning schemes too extensive for exe- 
cution, through want of vigour and perseverance 
to carry them out. They were thus what the 
Germans would call " dream-songs." 

The prose of the lectures delivered by Camp- 
bell was characteristic. He elaborated and 
finished sentence after sentence with great care, 
and thus^ perhaps, in some degree deprived his lan- 
guage of that ease which would have added to its 
attraction. It is not disjointed as the prose com- 
position of some fastidious writers is often found 
to be under similar circumstances, but is as neat 
and even elegant as might be expected from one 
so careful as he was in his metrical composition. 

V He was not without censurers. '* Coleridge 

»o 

. ^ ^has been lecturing against Campbell," said Byron, 

^ ' in 1811 ; " Sogers was present, and from him I 
^^ derive the information. We are' going to make a 
party to hear this Manichean of poesy." 

Again: '* Coleridge has attacked the 'Plea- 
sures of Hope,' and all other pleasures whatso- 
ever. Mr. Rogers was present, and heard himself 
indirectly rowed by the lecturer., We are going 
in a party to hear the new Art of Poetry by this 
reformed schismatic ; and were I one of these 
poetical luminaries, or of sufficient consequence 
to be noticed by the man of lectures, I should not 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. ISl 

hear him without an answer. . For you know 
' an' a man will be beaten with brains he shall 
never keep a clean doublet.' Campbell will be 
desperately annoyed. I never saw a man (and of 
him I have seen very little) so sensitive. What 
a happy temperament ! I am sorry for it What 
has he to fear from criticism !" 

With the '^ Pleasures of Hope" the existing 
school of poetry claims little affinity. To polish 
and refine the verses which inspiration, real or 
fancied, produces, is out of fashion. Like the 
cheap goods of moderD manufacturers, not made 
to last, but sell, quantity and celerity of pro- 
duction find most favour in the " discerning " 
public. It seems audacious to advocate, even in 
a measured degree, the mistakes of certain an- 
cients, committed for some thousands of years, 
and by our better writers in later times, before it 
was discovered by the '* Lake Poets" that the 
productions of the muse need no painstaking in 
language or imagery, and that to follow the cus- 
tomary course of things in all other arts is in 
poetry stark heresy, the " ideal" being designated 
in spontaneous language must follow nature. Nf 
matter if writers in this mode break their own 
laws, it is only a species of lapsus^ when it inci- 
dentally occurs. The true poetic vein is the 
language taken from the mouths of men under the 

K g 



192 IiTTEBibEY KBMJNISCIBNCBS AN^B 

iaflaencct of o^tural feelings let U be as low as it 
may^ says the great, apostle of the new school, 
while contiQually breabing his owairreTocablelaw 
ia practice. To thi& modern schooli, poetical dic-^ 
tion, brilliant ijEnagery> terse phrase, and lines 
breathing of beauty in the execution, are no ways 
tolerable. The overburdened, ass cannot alone be 
pitied^ it must be hailed a& "brother** by one, 
and be made the hero of his tale, by another; Fit 
audience, though few will alone be found to admire 
a poem like the " Fleasurei^ of Hope," Grace and 
beauty, fancy and feeling, may be blended in iter 
composition, the language may be somewhat above 
that of eyery«>day life, yet on this ground it was 
condemned and lectured against by a host of 
critics ; of whom, for one who understands the 
tiiere rudiments of his business, there are at least 
a dozen good authors. Who does not feel that all 
this censure is vain ? The law of the past will be 
emergent above the .wave of time, together with 
what it justifies. The most finished productions 
will have the longest duration, the mists of error 
dispersing before the sun-burst of a purer taste 
with the many, works. to come. Like, a piece of 
harmonious music which has won some great 
Apollonian wreath, for the owner^ that carries in 
its foliage perfume aud colours rich with geoius, 
this poem bears along sense with sound, while the 



m^mm 



MXM0IR8 09 THOMAS CAMPBELL. 133 

antitheses stamp the sentiment indelibly upon the 
memory, under impressions calculated to exalt 
eminently the pride of the lyre. The defect of 
the poem, aca)rding to some, is an oversweetness 
which cloys in poetry as in condiment. If it be 
really too sweet for some palatcfs, let it be taken 
like virgin honey, a portion at a time, and let 
them be the more happy in protracting their en* 
jayment. 

Thus the muse of Campbell belonged to that 
order in genius which is unable to sustain long 
its intensity of action. As with the execution of 
his two longer poems, the '^ Pleasures of Hope/' 
*' Gertrude of Wyoming,'* and three or four of 
his noble odes, in regard to quantity and excel- 
lence, so it was with the duration of his power in 
working out the best things he was able to exe- 
cute. His productions before the '' Pleasures of 
Hope" were published, were not of much more 
moment than those published after that poem, his 
Odes, and ** Gertrude of Wyoming," of course 
taking into account his additional experience. 
The poetical works, therefore, upon which his 
well-earned fame reposes were published between 
1799 and 1809, or in about ten years of a life 
extended to sixty^seven. It is evident that his 
poetical power decreased before middle life. The 
circumstances which attend upon the early or 



134 LITEEARY RE3C£NISC£NC£S AND 

later development of genius are singular. Milton 
began at eighteen^ and continued to sixty-four ; 
Walker from eighteen to eighty, with no per- 
ceptible diminution of ability; Dryden from 
twenty-six to seventy ; Pope from twelve to forty ; 
Cowley from ten to forty-nine ; ** Campbell,'* 
says Scott, ^^ broke out at once, like the Irish 
rebels, a hundred thousand strong;'* he might 
have added that, like theirs, his progressive 
power slackened in proportion to the ardour of the 
onset. 

On the Odes of Campbell, panegyric has been 
exhausted. ** Gertrude" is a gem of serene 
beauty, while it is no cunningly-devised tale, pos- 
sesses little action, but it has imagery so exquisite, 
an adaptation of language so happy, and such a 
union of tenderness and elegance, on the mixed 
model of the classical and romantic school, that it 
is not easy to find the counterpart in all the ex- 
tensive circle of our island poetry. The poet's fame 
had gone all over the land, and, as far as that 
was concerned, he might have reposed upon his 
laurels in early life, but for the necessity, the res 
angusta domi. 

Regarding the poetry of Campbell, an eminent 
writer remarked, '^ Like Gray, Campbell smells 
too much of the oil ; he is never satisfied with 
what he does ; his finest things have been spoiled 



MEMOIKS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 135 

by over-polish — the sharpness of the outline is 
worn off. Like paintings, poems may be too 
highly finished. The great art is effect, no matter 
how produced." Scott declared he was a bugbear 
to himself, from his poetical timidity. This was 
hardly correct. Inertness and timidity are dif- 
ferent things. 

Byron*s description of Campbell, in 1813, 
taken generally, is correct regarding the poet to 
about 1834, hardly later than the last year. 
" Campbell looks well — seems pleased, and 
dressed sprucely. A blue coat becomes him — so 
does his new wig. He really looked as if Apollo 
had sent him a birthday suit or a wedding garment, 
and was witty and lively." Byron also alluded 
(in 1813) to Campbell's '^ Lines on a Scene in Ba- 
varia," as being then in print, but not published ; 
he styles them ^^ perfectly magnificent, and equal 
to himself." 

Mrs. Grant, in one of her letters about the 
same date as that in which Campbell gave his 
lectures, says : — 

'^ What has most interested me of late has been 
a visit from Camj bell, the sweet bard of * Hope ;' 
you must know his enchanting * Gertrude,* his 
* Exile of Erin,' and other unequalled lyrics, 
wish I could share with you- the satisfaction I 
felt on seeing him cheerful, happy, and univer- 



136 Ji|T£ftAR¥ iL£MlMISC£Ne£S AJUB 

^lly welcomed ^4 caressed in his dear VQueen 

of the North/ froji^ which he had been so long 

banished^ \)j ih,e necessity of seeking the bre^d 

that perishethy elsewhere. He is one who has ] 

suffered much jEron^ neither understanding th^ 

worlds nor being understood by ip. He exL- * 

countered every evil of poverty but that of be^g 

ashamed of his circumstances ; in this respect he 

l^ras uobly indi^rent jto opinion ; and his good^ 

gentle^ patient little wife was so frugal^ sp sin^ple, 

find so s^iveet-tempered^ that she might have <£s* 

^rmed poverty pf half it^ evils.'' 

Poverty is, after all, coinparatiye, for at this tio^p 
Campbell had his pension of about two h|iiLndre4 
a-year. This was little enough, bi^t it w^ a 
foundation upon which whatever the poet g^ned 
by his pen might be placed. Mrs. G|:^t pro^ 
bably alluded to some particular c^pu^astan^e 
now forgotten. That any pressure of a pecvu^iary 
nature could have .been more than temporary is 
scarcely probable^ because at the peace of 1814 
he went to France on a pleasure excufsioi), as } 
learned was the case the following ye^r, ji^st s^er ^ 

the battle of Waterloo, yifhen sojourning in Itpuei^ 
for a few months, I foun4 the poet ha4 bee^ the|:^ 
and had been honoured, by being enrolled a member / 
of a literary society \a that pity ; he was ai^erwar4s 
in Paris. Tliat |^e liyefl with great frugality 4uripg 



■PiVMPi^vi^^^i^^wwwnpiVOTvwiHipivvvvHanHiiB 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPfiELL. 137 

Mrs. Campbell's lifetime, is perfectly true^ nor 
could any praise be too high for her conduct 
in domestic life, and her good management, 
proved by the change after her decease. Had 
there been any necessity for the most rigid 
economy, she well knew how to exercise with 
grace, that excellent system which can disguise 
narrowness of circumstances under scarcely any 
alteration in exterior appearance ; a conduct not 
shown, save where magnanimity lifts the mind 
above the yulg^rity of tbinJ^ing and leering which 
marks the insanity of fashion. 



138 LITERARY REMIKISCENCES AND 



CHAPTER V. 

Specimens of the British Poets undertaken. — The Essay- 
on Poetry.— Censure, of Bowles. — ^Discussions it pro- 
voked. — ^Parties involved in the contest. — ^Analysis of 
the " Invariable Principles." — Joke on the term by the 
Poet.— He revisits G-ermany and the Schlegels. — En- 
gages to become Editor of the New Monthly Magazine. 
— History of that publication. — Campbell's Editorship. 
— Takes London lodgings. — Commencement of his 
Editorial duties. — His first ccfntributions. 

jHE next literary undertsiking of Campbell 
was the " Specimens of the British Poets," 
published in 1819, in seven volumes. 
Under this engagement Mr. Murray the publisher 
engaged to pay him five hundred pounds, which 
sum he doubled upon the completion of the un- 
dertaking, under one of those generous impulses 
to which he was no strangen This, it must be 
acknowledged, was honourable conduct in one of 
Mr. Murray's profession, and forms an appro- 




MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 139 

priate sequel to that of Messrs. Mundell already 
recorded. 

The *' Essay on English Poetry," which con- 
stitutes part of the foregoing work> might be 
denominated the poet's master-piece in prose 
composition, did it not here and there exhibit in 
the style touches of affectation. Yet it is difficult 
to say which should have the preference, the 
opening lectures on poetry, or this essay, for both 
combine the excellences and peculiarities of the 
poet's prose style. The lectures are, perhaps, the 
best example, referring particularly to the first 
and second. They are more profound, and are 
remarkable for their engaging simplicity. Much 
learned research is exhibited in both, but the 
lectures are the more elaborate, while the essay is 
fresher, and displays more of the graces of fancy. 
There is a genial feeling about the essay, a spirit 
of kindness and cordiality, wholly untinctured 
with that enviousness of which the poet has been 
in a solitary instance so groundlessly accused by 
Lord Brougham. He was blamed for confining 
his selections to productions which had been 
passed 6ver by others, but he did this because he 
thought the best things had been too frequently 
taken, and were in consequence become familiar 
and hacknied. His judgments are given, as has 
been already noticed^ even when he censures^ 



HO XITKHART R£MINI9CSNCSS AND 

without asperity^ and with impartiality, his re- 
marks on Churchill, perhaps, excepted, whose 
merits he has not fully acknowledged. 

Campbell hegan his essay with the Saxon origin 
of the English language and its displacement* 
except in the elements, by the introduction of 
the Norman, through which the germs of romantic 
poetry were first introduced into the island, and 
to which the English language was indebted for 
its copiousness of terms and compass of expres* 
sion. In this beautiful essay, in citing one of oar 
older pieces of poetry, he misquotes '^Blow, 
blow, thou northern wind," in place of ^' Blow, 
blow, thou winter's wind." Errors of the com- 
monoit kind were numerous throughout the 
seven volumes, some relating to biographical in- 
cidents, others to dates, and books, which the 
author orerlooked, not, indeed, other than any 
pen might correct by reference to the book-shelf, 
and wholly unconnected with criticism or taste> 
but such as ought not to have been suffered to 
pass uncorrected. On the appearance of the 
second edition, so great was Campbell's horror 
of revision that he declined the task — a task very 
slight, and absolutely necessary. It was placed 
in the hands of another, for the purpose of re- 
vision and superintending the printing, which 
being done with attention, the poet thanked the 






MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBltL. 141 

correcftor for the nicide in which he had perfbrtti^ed 
his task. Here wae aBother charaeteristie example 
of Campbell^s dislike of labour, almost insur- 
mountable^ eren during his better days, as indeed 
^i^ay be inferred firom^ its oyercoming the affection 
eyery author is supposed tb feel for the complete- 
neiHt of his own performances. "Read Camf- 
bell's Poets/' said Byron in his journal ; " marked 
idle errors of Tom for correction." Again, " Came 
home-^read. Corrected Tom Campbell's slips of 
the pen.'^ Farther, ** His defence of Pope is 
glorious ; to be sure it is hit awn cause too— but 
nor matter, it is very good, and does him much 
credit" 

in tihtat part of this essay in which its author 
speaks of the non-establishment of die literary 
character of England before the close of the six* 
te^ith century, the poet is particularly striking 
and elegant. His critical remarks on Spenser 
are sound, and in good taste, while those on 
Shakspeare are worthy of his reputation. Allu- 
ding to Shakspeare, he notices the opinions of 
Augustus. William Sohlegel, whose knowledge of 
the great dramatic poet was so profound. The 
whole of the Elizabethan age, in itfe^ poetical cha- 
racter, is- finely discriminated; The third part 
of the essay begins with the reign of James L, 
1^ influence of that reigii upon poetry. 



142 LITERART REMINISCENCES AND 

The classical and metaphysical poets are examined 
after the fine old dramatists, of whom Campbell 
felt the full merit. He ascribes their extinction 
to the civil wars. On Milton he expatiates with 
a full sense of the loftiness of his theme ; perhaps 
it is the happiest part of his essay, lucid, discri- 
minating, redolent with the feeling of his majestic 
subject. He censures Dryden's Yirgil, and 
alludes to the fact of the poet having produced so 
many fine things in his old age, ^* renewed ia 
his youth like the eagle." He then proceeds to 
Pope, and in touching upon his different editors, 
says, " The last of these is the Rev. Mr. Bowles, 
in speaking of whom I beg leave most distinctly 
to disclaim the slightest intention of undervaluing 
his merit as a poet, however freely and fiilly I 
may dissent from his critical estimate of the ge- 
nius of Pope. Mr. Bowles, in forming this esti- 
mate, lays great stress upon the argument that 
Pope's images are drawn more from art than 
nature." 

From this passage arose the celebrated discus- 
sion. Campbell seemed here inclined to wander 
from his immediate subject into an elaborate 
defence of Pope, disputing the justice of Bowles's 
argument at considerable length, in proportion to 
the entire essay, in the same way as he wandered 
in his lecture on poetry into an arraignment of 



MEMOIRS OF 'THOMAS CAMPBELL. 1 43 

Mitford's opinions regarding Sparta. With this 
justification of Pope he concluded. It would 
seem as if between Pope and the actual termina- 
tion of the eighteenth century there had been 
few other poets worthy of introduction into his 
dissertation. As he approached the end of his 
task, and deviated into a justification of Pope 
against a living writer^ it is possible he finished 
with a sort of abruptness, because he thought in 
discussions that might possibly arise out of his 
previous remarks, he should have enough on his 
hands, without provoking more. Perhaps, as was 
his way, he felt tired of his labour, and was glad 
to terminate it, though he had no valid reason for 
not rendering his work more complete, by no- 
ticing the variations in style between Pope and 
the different poets to the end of the eighteenth 
century. 

The specimens begin with Chaucer, and termi- 
nate with Anstey, who died in 1805, a period in- 
tervening of four hundred and five years. In 
the specimens, which included each a too brief 
memoir of a single poet, Campbell made some 
further observations upon Bowles for his severity 
upon the moral character of the bard of Twick- 
enham. 

The same year (1819) was, in consequence, 
signalised by the publication of a letter from the 



144 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

Rev. Lisle Bowles to^ Campbell , in jusfiflcarten o 
his opiniotis on what were called his *' invariable 
principles of poefry/* arising out of sotiae remarks 
in defence of Pope in his ''^ Essay," already no- 
ticed. Byi'on, Campbell, Roscdie, Gilchiist/ and 
the Ouartetly Review, Were all' niixed tip in the 
question, and even Mooref. The laist I'eniarks, in 
his " Life of Byron**— ^" It m^y be sufficient" to say 
of the use to which both Lord Byr6n and Mr. 
Bowles thought it worth while to apply my name 
in this controversy, that as far as my own know- 
ledge of the subject extended, I was disposed to 
agree with neither of the extreme opinions into 
which, as it appeared to me, my distinguished 
friends had diverged, &c.'* 

Everybody must remember Lord ByroU's 
lines on Bowles and' Campbell, to the tune of 
" How now, Madame Flirt P' — 



JBawUs, — ^Wby how now, sMicy Tom, 
If thus you mast ramble, 
I will publish some 
"Bemarks on Mr. Caimpbell. 
Campbell, — Why how now, Billy Bowles, 

Ac. &c. &c. 



»» 



The discussion was kept open from 1819 to 
18SS> in consequence of Roscoe having agreed* to 
be editor of the new edition of the works of 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 145 

Pope. This duty had been undertaken for the 
booksellers by Bowles on a previous occasion^ in 
which he had spoken of Pope in so sKghting a 
manner^ and had thus provoked the remarks of 
Campbell. 

This was a singular dispute ;* Campbell may be 
said to have began the contest by his dissent from 
Bowleses theory of criticism. Bowles addressed 
him a letter in consequence^ but Campbell was 
too idle to go further ii^to the contest. He got 
rid of it by a note which he attached to his third 
lecture, a perfect exemplification of his mode of 
shifting off a task. He says, referring to Bowles's 
" invariable principles " — " When the book " 

* A character of this controverty was given in a north- 
em periodical thus : — 

" Mr. Bowles wrote a book upon Pope. 

" Mr. Campbell abused Mr. Bowles's book cm Pope. 

'* Mr. Bowles wrote an answer to Mr. Campbell's abuse 
of Mr. Bowles's book on Pope. 

" Lord Byron wrote a letter to certain stars in Albe- 
marle-street, in answer to Mr. Bowles's answer to Mr.* 
Campbeirs abuse of Mr. Bowles's book on Pope. 

" Jeremy Bentham, Es q., wrote a letter to Lord Byron 
about Lord Byron's letter to certain stars in Albemarle- 
street, in answer to Mr. Bowles's answer to Mr. Campbell's 
abuse of Mr. Bowles's book on Pope. 

*' Mr. Bowles wrote an answer, not to Jeremy Bentbam, 
but to Lord Byron's letter to certain stars in Albemarle- 
street, in answer to Mr. Bowles's answer to Mr. Campbell's 
abase of Mr. Bowles's book on Pope." 

VOL. I. L 



ma 



146 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

(meaning his " Specimens ") " in which I dis- 
sented from Mr. Bowles's theory of criticism 
comes to a second edition^ I shall haye a good deal 
to say to my reverend friend. I haye not mis- 
represented him, as he imagines^ but I have no 
leisure to tprite pamphlets about him!^ No writer 
of his day ever had so much leisure as the poet for 
such a purpose. He was not idle in the common 
sense of the term ; it is true he read and studied 
— but he did nothing, — his ' reading and study 
producing no fruit beyond his own gratification. 
The "Specimens" did not come to a second edi- 
tion until twenty years afterwards (1841), when 
the poet was past all ability for writing. It is 
true he expected a second edition long before. 
Dr. Wolcot (Peter Pindar) died in 1819 : Camp- 
bell being aware that I had known the satirist, 
begged me to put together a memoir of the doctor, 
as he intended to place him in the next edition of 
his " Specimens," Wolcot being, in his opinion, 
one of the most original poets England had ever 
produced, and one having the most perfect know- 
ledge of human nature — but to return. Campbell 
thus left others to fight out the battle he had com- 
menced himself, overlooking the contest between 
others like an unconcerned spectator. Warm at 
first in behalf of Pope, he felt that to prolong the 
controversy would be irksome, and the original 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 147 

burst of feeling cooled, he could not screw himself 
to the sticking point again. This affair^ which 
made so much noise in the literary world, it may 
be proper to recall in the outline, as many may 
have forgotten that celebrated discussion. 

With the question of the *^ invariable principles 
of poetry," as laid down by Bowles, was in- 
volved the reputation of Pope, If the notions of 
Bowles were once admitted and established, their 
effect would be to degrade Pope from the emi- 
nence on which for so long a period he had stood, 
by the general consent of the world, our first 
poet after Milton's time, as Johnson truly re- 
marks. The importance and interest excited by 
the question were increased by the high reputa- 
tion of most of those who were engaged in it. 
Some said that Bowles had the ambition of 
founding a new poetical creed. This was not 
exactly the fact ; the '^ principle,'' or the " prin- 
ciples," as they were denominated, of that com- 
mentator had been the subject of long and 
animated discussion in Germany and Italy se- 
veral years before, as Campbell well knew, and 
in this country bore a manifest ascendency with 
a particular class of critics and poets, those called 
" the Lakers," in particular, and their supporters. 
The *' principles " of Bowles were but the reite- 
ration of opinions which had been elsewhere 

L 2 



148 UTBRAET KEHINISCXHCES AND 

more emphftticalljr ejqiressed and exhibited ia 
practice. But the " canons " of Bowles were 
in any case laid down in his criticism <m Pope in 
a manner far too unqualified. Hia argument 
was, that images drawn irora the sublime and 
beautiiul in nature are more poetical than any 
drawn from art ; and that those passions of the 
human heart which belong to nature in general, 
arc of themselvea more adapted to the higher 
species of poetry than those which are derived 
from inddental and transient manners. With 
the exceptions and qualifications belonging to all 
critical opinions, this position might ^be admitted 
by the party of which Campbell may be consi- 
dered to hare taken the lead. But Bowles went 
further, and said in effect, that the mere presence 
of such images was to determine the merits of a 
poet with little or no consideration of the skill 
and power displayed in working np the materials. 
This could not be agreed to by the author of 
the *' Fleasures of Hope," and he accordingly 
showed himself an absolute dissenter from so 
imperfect and unlair a mode of estimating poetical 
excellence. Campbell was of opinion that this 
theory entirely destroyed the distinctions between 
capacities of the loftiest and meanest order, and 
took away its very essence from the character of 
the poet. No doubt from subjects sublime or 



; L 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 149 

beautdful in themselvefl, genius will produce more 
beautiful creations than from such as are appa- 
rently low, barren, and insignificant ; but even to 
these last it is the attribute of genius to lend 
some of its splendour, and to invest them with 
the exquisite associations of poetry. Some natural 
objects which, owing to the associations connected 
with them, may have a less degree of adaptation, 
poetical skill may still render universally inte- 
resting; many in art on which nothing but the 
highest ability can bestow an interest, having 
received it from the poet's genius, may become as 
fully endowed with the spirit of poetry as any 
natural objects can be. The sublime in nature 
possesses associations and interests of its own, 
which are more or less present to all observers, 
in all times and places, unchangeable and uni- 
versal. But artificial objects, capable of awaken- 
ing intense interest, must have more dependence 
on the contrivances of human aid, and arbitrary 
and conventional circumstances, for their power 
of excitement. Here, then, appears the province 
of the true poet, the sphere '* within whose circle 
none durst walk but he." To draw from himself, 
and to create, by virtue of his magic power, all 
such associations as most deeply influence imd 
affect the heart of man — to employ all the re- 
sources of passion and imagination with the 




150 LITERAEY REMINISCENCES AND I 

qualities of his own genius — so to shape and 
clothe his subjects as to make them appear its 
inseparable relations, and thus to subdue, by the 
mere exertions of his wit, those sensibilities and | 

sympathies which without such art would have | 

remained indifferent and UDmoved — all this was f 

not, according to Campbell, to be accounted a vain 
and unprofitable labour. Was the enchanter who ^ 

called up at his own will those beautiful visions, 
and peopled with his own creations the " mighty 
void," to be reduced to the level of him whose 
only merit consisted in the selection of a happier 
theme? No system of exclusion could be true, 
^^oever set about to maintain one alone must 
be convicted of much incongruous reasoning and 
inconsistent opinion. Campbell withdrew early 
from the contest, as already observed. Bowles 
continued to support his opinions against iresh 
controversialists, who could not regard all the 
mighty names time has spared from Greece and 
Rome, and all belonging to our own country up to a 
certain period, with rare exceptions, as second- 
rate poets after the *' lake poets " appeared, be- 
cause those poets had faith in the " invariable 
principles" of Bowles. Under his principles the 
Venus de Medicis could not be natural, because 
It statue is composed of perfect portions of the 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 151 

female form, too perfect for existing nature, 
therefore^ too, it could not be poetical. 

Such seems to have been the. sense of the 
question in the plainest form in which I can put 
it from recollection, at the time Campbell entered 
upon the discussion. Long years have passed 
since, and I might not be excused for the fore- 
going analysis upon what is now nearly forgotten, 
except by a few literary men, but as being so 
celebrated^ and one in which the part taken by 
Campbell at the outset was so decided. His 
junction of the classic and romantic schools of 
poetry in his own verse, sufficiently proves that 
he was not exclusive in the matter, and deemed 
Nature and Art equal resources for poetical use, 
one excelling the other in advantage, according to 
the skill exhibited in their management. In 
this respect Moore was decidedly correct in 
agreeing with neither of the disputants, if they 
held exclusive opinions, for so his observation 
must be understood. 

That repugnance which Campbell continually 
displayed to revert to anything he once had in 
hand, either of his own for the purpose of correc- 
tion and revision, or of any matter likely to involve 
discussion as in the present case, was remarkably 
displayed on his finding a dispute he may be said 
to have begun, continued for two or three years, 



152 LITERARY REMINISCKNCES AND 

and yet refraining from interfering iiirther. So 
far did he carry this peculiar feeling, that he re- 
quested any subsequent notices of works to be 
kept from the magazine^ that touched upon the 
question of the ''invariable principles^" evi- 
dently lest they should revive the contest in his 
own person, by being supposed his opinions^ be* 
cause he was editor of the work in which they 
would appear. 

He never talked of the contest, and scarcely 
ever alluded to it, to my remembrance^ except 
once to the historian of Leo X., who happened 
to be then in town, A joke of the poet's upon 
the contest, however, I remember, occurred. A 
man and his wife were quarrelling imder the 
window of his lodgings in Margaret Street : 
going from his chair, and looking out to discover 
the cause, he came back saying, " O, it is nothing, 
but the ' invariable principles ' of matrimony !" 

The contest about the invariable principles of 
poetry began in 1319, and in the following year 
Campbell received an offer of the Editorship of 
the "New Monthly Magazine,'' through Mr. Up- 
cot, on behalf of Mr. Colbum, the proprietor. He 
then paid a visit to Germany, proceeding as £eu* as 
Vienna, where he saw for the last time, after an 
interval of many years, his friend Frederick 
Schlegel, who was settled there, having married 




MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 153 

the daughter of Moses Mendelssohn^ the Jewish 
philosopher. They had first met at Gottingen. 
Schlegel had resided for the twelve preceding 
years in the Austrian States, haying been^ part of 
the time^ Aulic secretary to the Arch-duke 
Charles. He had published his lectures " On the 
History of Ancient and Modern Literature" five 
years before, and was now Councillor of Legation 
at the Germanic Diet: another proof of the 
honours paid to intellect by the more civilised 
nations of the continent, furnishing an honourable 
contrast to the slight with which it is treated in 
England. Campbell remained a brief time in the 
Austrian capital, but long enough to note the 
changes which years had effected in many things, 
and to be struck with the different aspect and the 
different impressions they produced on. his mind 
from those which they had done formerly. He 
returned by way of Bonn, where Augustus Wil- 
liam Schlegel resided, and where for a time he 
left his son. 

It was twenty-one years since he had published 
the ** Pleasures of Hope/' and he was forty-three. 
Upon glancing at what he had produced in the 
intervening term, we find only his noble '* Odes,** 
and " Gertrude of Wyoming.*' These did not 
occupy any great portion of his time during an 
interval so prolonged. ^* Gertrude of Wyoming** 



154 LITERART REMINISCENCES AND 

was composed in about a year, and this must not 
be understood of continued labour. Several of 
his shorter pieces he had kept by him some time 
for correction and revision, though in composition 
they had cost him only one or two sittings each. 
He composed many of his poems while we were 
in habits of close intimacy. Some of these went 
to press on the second proofs, some after the first, 
but then he had altered them frequently in manu- 
script. The '^ lectures" he delivered, and the 
'* specimens" could have occupied but a small 
part of the years which had elapsed. How then 
did he employ his time, may naturally be in- 
quired, since he was not an idle man ? The reply 
must be found in his attachment to abstract re- 
searches already alluded to in reading the classics, 
in solving difficulties, in desultory translation, and 
in exploring the numerous side-paths which 
branched from the immediate track of study in 
which he happened to be engaged, but could be 
turned to no purpose. 

He was deliberating at the moment upon a work 
in relation to some of the German speculations 
upon ancient literature. He intended to lay the 
basis upon the views of the subject afforded by 
the better knowledge of the antiquities and locali- 
ties of the scenes of ancient enterprise or celebrity 
which modern times afford. This task he would 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 155 

never have completed, from the demand it neces- 
sarUy implied upon a patience of investigation 
foreign to his nature. It was while contemplat- 
ing such a work, he received the offer of the 
editorship of the Magazine. Upon the acceptance 
of the duty he had deliberated. He had as yet no 
experience whatever in active periodical literature. 
All he had undertaken had been executed at his 
own leisure, in the retirement of his study> un- 
connected with other individuals. The continual 
contact with strangers, the necessity of saying 
" No," where he could wish to give an affirmative 
answer ; the punctuality required in handing over 
to the printer the last copy for the requisite num- 
ber on the appointed day, and the annoyance of a 
correspondence, were matters of serious consider- 
ation to one who was by nature apt to " make 
mountains of mole-hills.'' Sensitive as the poet 
was to the slightest annoyance, he felt that it was 
a duty he owed to himself, notwithstanding he was 
unacquainted with periodical literature, and had 
conflicting doubts about the trouble his task would 
cost him — ^he felt it was a duty, in his pecuniary 
circumstances, to accept the office. 

The " New Monthly Magazine" had been mo- 
delled very much after the ^^Gentleman's," or 
more correctly, after the '* Monthly Magazine," 
owned by Sir Bichard Phillips, and begun by 



156 LITSEAET BEH1NISCENCB8 AND 

that bibliopolist many years before. At tbis time 
arbitrary pmciples were the fasbion of tbe day. 
A whig was a nuisance in politics, and a radical 
Tras a moneter. High state and cburcb princi- 
ples alone were in favour among sucb as bought 
books, but read scarcely any ranking above the 
circulating library sublimitieB of those days. 
Phillips it was averred, in the new publication, had 
been bred in the school of Jacobinism, aa everyone 
was then said to be who dissented from the doc- 
trines, good, bad, or indifferent, of the domi- 
neering party in the state, and he was charged 
with commencing his career as a criminal pro- 
mulgator of that disloyal book the " Bights of 
Man." The new magazine was to put Phillips, 
the " Bights of Man," and all Jacobinism to the 
rout, by means of its own Jacobidsm, The poison 
of the "Old Monthly** was to be, happily for 
society, rendered harmless by tlie " New," at 
least in perspective. This last made its appear- 
ance on tbe first of Februry, 1814. The address 
to the public was worthy of being treasured for 
its modesty, self-laudation, and hard words. A 
ii^gful register of incidents in town and country, 
deaths, marriages, and similar matter was ap- 
pended at the end of the number. The original 
articles in Phillips's were bold, uncompromising 
in resistance to an arrogant ministry, and many 



M£M0IR8 OF THOSiAS CAMPBELL. 157 

of them ingenious speculations. The new work 
was so far from an equal to the antagonist it 
assailed, that it was spring-water to alcohol in 
comparison; but if it was weak in reason, it 
was on the side of physical strength, in behalf of 
which it did not fail to show its sting. 

In the foregoing mode the periodical had con- 
tinued, with none of the promised benefits to the 
cause it espoused, until 1820, when an improve- 
ment began to appear in its double columns, 
which, towards the end of that year, took a de* 
cided tendency for the better. In December 
fourteen volumes in double columns had ap- 
peared. The sagacity of the proprietor just 
then had shown him that " old things were passing 
away,'* and that the salvation of England from 
the clutches of Sir Richard Phillips had either 
been wrought out, or was become past all hope of 
performance. The political tone became less de- 
cided ; politics were less frequently touched upon, 
and literary articles of merit and of a renovated 
cast made their appearance, though still " a saint 
in crape was twice a saint in lawn." Towards 
the close of the year, the pen of Talfourd began to 
be observable in articles of a theatrical and lite- 
rary nature. It is presumed the success of the 
change convinced the proprietor that his interest 
lay in an entire alteration in the nature of his 



k and 11 



1 &8 LITERARY BEMTNI8C1NCE8 AND 

publication. This determiDed upon, no one kneir 
better than he how to attain his purpose. He 
was not sparing of expense, or of the means of 
making his plan extensively known, and of having 
secured Campbell for editor. There was soon, 
in consequeuce, within his reach a mass of 
talent such as had never before been connected 
at starting with any similar undertaking. The 
publisher paid well for contributions, and his 
house led, in its connection with literary ability at 
that time, all the others in the metropolis. 

Campbell engaged to commence tbe first num- 
her of the new series of the magazine on the first 
of January, 1821. He was to perform the usual 
duty of an editor, and to receive a salary of 5Q0L 
per annum. He was also to contribute such 
articles to the pages of the work himself, as he 
might think suitable. He was an utter stranger, 
as before observed, to the details of hia new duties, 
and bad kept no communion with literary men 
associated for a common purpose. When not em- 
ployed in literary composition, he had continually 
fallowed up studies, the subjects of which had 
been generally abstruse, and were, consequently, 
uf small moment in aid of his new labour, which 
raiher required a knowledge of present things 

d the topics of the passing hour. He had read 
Lccply upon what caught his attention in Ian- 



^Kfm^^amm^^mmmmi^mmmtm^smi'iKu^imm^mgm^^m^^mmmmmmma^^mmK^^ai^nm^r^'Bw^^r^^BsssKiats'Tr 



MKMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPB£LL. 159 

guages, metaphysics, and political economy. He 
knew much of what few could reciprocate with 
him, and less upon subjects about which numbers 
were well informed. From habit he demanded 
retirement, even for the perusal of a book. A 
trifle threw his mind out of its equilibrium^ and 
distracted him from his immediate pursuit. The 
result of long habit is the impossibility of change, 
when change is imperiously required. The habit 
of the student that becomes the means to his ab- 
sorbing subject, is unalterable. The racer might 
as well part with his legs as the solitary man of 
letters separate himself from what has become 
necessary to the more facile pursuit of his studies, 
even if it have no advantage in the sight of 
others. 

The poet was not one who secured confidence 
from strangers on a slight acquaintance, or com- 
municated it ; not firom want of heart or coldness 
of feeling, but from a retiring sensitiveness that 
never put itself forward, and had to be overcome 
before confidence was formed. It was easy to 
perceive, coming to the poet in those days if not 
as a stranger, still with only a slight acquaintance, 
how reserved he was in talking upon the com- 
monest literary subjects where they involved 
giving an opinion. No more of his peculiarities 
had then been known to the present writer 



— I 



160 LITSRART REMIKISCENCES AKD 

dun anyone might gatlner from a few casual inter- 
tenriewB. Campbell's manner at this time was 
affid>le, bnt somewhat Ibrmal to strangers ; he was 
extremely carefiil not to be gnilty of saying any- 
diing to hart the feelings of those whom he met 
on literary business; eren when he thooght 
meanly of them, bearing towards them a uniform 
urbanity, though his t«nper had been often tried 
in this way by persons who intruded on his 
priTscy at Sydenham. 

Betuming from Grermany, he was oTcrtumed 
in the ooadli, and hurt his arm. This accident 
retarded, in some measure, the preparations fer 
the commencement of his new duties. He took 
lodgings in town, at 62, Margaret Street, Caven- 
dish Square, at the dose of 1820, retaining his 
house at Sydenham. At that house in Margaret 
Street the first interriews took place, for the 
purpose of maVing arrangements to commence 
the new series of a work destined to be altered 
in every respect but the name. The poet, before 
any actual business commenced, showed a nervous 
sort of apprehension of what was to come. The 
whole universe might have been supposed to rest 
on his shoulders. He looked deeply thoughtful 
towards the friture. It was true that few or no 
contributiiHis had been provided, and the time 
was short. He was in fear, and that increased 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 161 

liis confusion ; he had thought little about the con- 
tributions that would be required— where could 
they come from ? The first week in December 
had commenced, and he was such a norice as to 
his approaching task, that he imagined he should 
find them, and have no more to do than approlfe 
or disapprove. In thi? respect his simplicity, or 
rather lack of correct perception in regard to the 
nature of his task, was so great as to be almost 
insurmountable. Then he began to think how he 
should submit himself to the trouble of perusing 
all the manuscripts sent in the course of carrying 
on such a work. He tried, but declared it would 
be impossible for him to bear the labour ; and 
very soon exhibited his impatience, by further 
declaring positively that he could not get through 
the task almost as soon as he made the attempt 
Those who were acquainted with his habits might 
have foreseen this, but none who were connected 
with the publication knew his peculiarities. 

The poet wished the articles tendered to be 
read cursorily, or to be described to him in such 
a way as to put him in full possession of their 
nature. Everything in their arrangement, 
correction, and abridgment, this last labour 
including that of reviews in the large print, was 
to be done by somebody else. He declared he 
could not undertake so heavy a task — that such a 

VOL. I. M 



162 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

variety of labour confused and bewildered hiiA. 
There was nothing erroneous in this, for the poet 
was too sensitive and fastidious to fulfil such a duty 
effectually ; when he tried it, he began by endea- 
vouring to reconcile the expressions and opinions 
1^ others to his own mode of thinking. At such 
a rate the day of the monthly publication would 
never have seen a number ready. 

The work was to make three annual volumes. 
The two first were to consist df original articles^ to 
the extent of six sheets per month. The plan 
was new ; in fact, it commenced an era in maga- 
zine publishing, and changed the aspect of 
those publications altogether. Thus, exclusive of 
his own articles, Campbell had only to select 
about five sheets and a half, from the papers of his 
contributors, some of which were bespoke of 
writers regarding whom he could have no need to 
exercise his critical judgment, as they were to be 
depended upon. Despite that knowledge, he was 
fearful at first that people would suppose alt the 
sentiments expressed in the work were his own, 
and thus at starting he was as anxious about that 
point as he afterwards became careless. The third 
volume, printed in double columns of three sheets 
per month, was in very small type, and therefore 
in quantity of matter, original and selected, nearly 
equalled in the mass the other six. It included 
political events, colonial and foreign news, critical 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 163 

notices of books^ the drama, music, the fine arts^ 
varieties, home and foreign; rural economy, useful 
arts, patents, biography, incidents, provincial oc- 
currences, and similar matters for the month, 
printed so as to bind in a volume at the end of 
the year. It is more than twenty years since this 
periodical, as it was under the polt's editorship, 
has been changed. Therefore, in referring to it 
under Campbell, the subsequent abandonment of 
the plan under which it so signally flourished, 
must be borne in mind. The poet was to have 
an assistant, whose duty, of course, was confined, 
.as first understood, to the management of the 
third volume, and its original and compiled con- 
tents, and that third volume only it was the duty 
of the present narrator to compile and bring out. 
Mr. Colburn, supposing the poet, in duty bound 
as editor, would do the first part. 

As Campbell declared he could not undertake 
the task which properly belonged to him as editor, 
and also declared he could not, and would not, 
even read the proofs, Mr. Colburn was compelled to 
procure him an assistant. Mr. H. Boscoe was 
mentioned, and then Mr. Dubois, and in breath- 
less haste the latter, an old acquaintance of the 
poet, well versed in periodical literature, and an 
excellent classical scholar, was engaged — an ex- 
pense unforeseen by the proprietor. Edward 

M 2 



164 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

Dubois had published^ early in life, seyeral trans- 
lations from the lesser Greek poets, and compa- 
risons between some of the Latin writers. To 
the public he was best known as the author of 
'^ My Pocket Book," a satire upon that shallow- 
witted traveller. Sir John Carr, who had been 
knighted in Ireland for his travels in that island, 
whence he got the name of the " Jaunting Car." 
A bookseller refused to buy one of his tours in 
consequence of Dubois' ridicule, and Carr in- 
dicted the publishers, Vemor and Hood, for a 
libel. The affair made much fuss in the world, 
for Lord Ellenborough treated the case as an un- 
worthy one, and Sir John Carr got no verdict. 
Thus the ridicule of Dubois, full of keen satire, 
put an end to the nonsense of Carr for ever. 
Dubois was president of the Court of Kequests, 
in Westminster, and used to make one of Thomas 
Hill's Sydenham guests, where he became inti- 
mate with Campbell. 

Seeing the inexperience of the poet in peri- 
odical literature, and on the strength of great 
previous experience and an intimacy of some 
standing, Dubois ventured to advise the poet on one 
or two points, seeing him a perfect novice under 
the circumstances in which he was placed. The 
poet's pride took the alarm; for though he felt his 
inexperience and showed it by his acts, he could 



iBmrnammm^^mmrngmmmmmmmmmammBmimmm 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 165 

never admit it without wounding his amour propre. 
He sought out Colburn, and told him it was 
utterly impossible they could harmonize. Sadly 
perplexed, Colbum asked the present writer if 
he would undertake the task in addition to his 
existing engagement. With no great hope of 
success, he consented, profited by what he ob- 
served had occurred, and succeeded not merely 
in the duties he undertook, but in consolidating 
what was. before a slight acquaintance into a 
friendship which, for a long term of years in 
human life, remained unchanged. The primary 
success of his attempt was mainly owing to the 
giving due consideration to one or two of the 
poet's peculiarities upon literary topics, and, it 
must be said, taking much more of the task upon 
himself than in strictness he ought to have taken. 
On the other hand, the success of the publication 
was unprecedented, and success levels all other 
considerations. The public was pleased with 
what it obtained. Except the editor's own, the 
articles were for the most part published anony- 
mously, their way being made by their own 
merit. 

Among the poet's peculiarities to others, was 
his carelessness about their letters or articles 
which chanced to fall into his hands. Sheridan 
was not more careless, if indeed he were careless 



► 



166 LITERAEI KEMUIISCESCIS ASD 

it aD, becmae when he got > letter, he feaied it 
«M from a dim, and therefore would not open it. 
CampbeQ read the notes he receired, bat if re- 
qoiriiig m answer, he set about the ta^ tm- 
wiDin^hr, and dismisaed h with a biief replr at 
one tfane and at another, with exceeding f<KnialitT. 
He waa cratttnoally^ losing kttets or pa^en, and 
then fretting about their recoTeiy. He would 
read a letter and put it into hia coat-pocket, in- 
tending to reply to it, and forget all about the 
nutter. Often wholly engrocsed by any diance 
literary sobject that occopied his attention at the 
instant, he conld scarcely be prevailed npon to 
divert it to another for erer to . short a time. 
Benoe, iriiaterer article came to him he would 
put it hj, as he intended, for fritore .inspectian, 
and not think of it again. He had no method, 
no arrangement, hia papen lay about in confruion, 
and if he wanted for a moment to pot them aside, 
be ironld jumble them into a heap, or cram them 
into a drawer. Subseqaently, when he desired 
to return to them, he incnrred labour and lost 
time in hunting what he wanted. A fragment 
wmdd be missed altt^ether, or whole leaves mis- 
placed. From Uiis habit it happened that when 
be received letters or papers at his rendence, 
although everything for the work it was reqnested 
might be directed to the publisher, he got con- 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 167 

fused about them^ had mislaid, and often declared 
he had never received them^ till^ pressed by fresh 
applications, sometimes they were traced to his 
own door. This greatly annoyed him. I have 
found letters, or an article, placed over his books 
on the shelves, unopened, sometimes slipped 
down behind them. He would close a volume 
upon one, and restore the book to its place, 
where a month or two afterwards it would come 
to view by accident, on his wanting to consult 
the work again. Mrs. Campbell, who used to 
smile at 'these things in her good-natured way, 
said at last, *' How should he take care of the 
papers, when he cannot take care of himself—*! 
am obliged to look after him — he had better not 
have them in the study at all." She was as good 
as her word, and kept back all belonging to the 
publication that happened to go straight to the 
poet's house, and order was at last established. 
As many communications were from writers of 
merit, and from persons who had a just claim to 
the conventional courtesies of society, there could 
be no slovenly avoidance of restoring any except 
poetical contributions. Of these it was no labour 
for the writers to keep copies. Of those who 
thus tendered contributions, seldom any but re- 
cognised writers were of value to the work. 
The first number of the publication appeared. 



f 



16S UTKEAMT KKMUnBCKHCeS AHD 

bowerer, on the Irt of Janiuiy, 1821, imd^ the 
editonh^ of the poet, MMrtcd by Ur. Dabok. 
The cddnitf of Campbell's nmie vonld have 
produced cootribotioiM aicnigh, had a leqninte 
time d^Med ; bnt things were honied fbrwaid, 
and it became pec eoMiy to fixage for artidea. 
Campbell had met Ugo Foecolo a daj ot two 
be&ne, at Lord HoUaad's, when the magaaiie 
wai spoken of as forthc(Mniiig, and Fowolo asked 
Campbell &r a sabject. bat the poet coold not tell 
v^ what he stood in need. Foscohi went to woik 
tipon " An Account of the Berolotion in Naples ;" 
be also proposed some memoirs of the less-known 
Italian poets, which he afterwards execoted. 
One <^ the most gifted and amiable writers of 
that time, a great £iToimle of Campbell, Henr^ 
Boscoe, afterwards prematnrely cat off by death, 
contributed ; Xalfbnrd, Horace Smith, Gray, the 
political economist, yoang Mnnden, whose know- 
ledge of Spanish literature was opportaoe, were 
also contribators. Mr. Bowring sent a translation 
of some Terses &om the German. Several names 
at that lime well-known in liteiuy dicles sent 
articles, and filled ap the namber. The first was 
not indeed a pattern nnmber, it is seldom the 
case that a first number is ever traly so, even 
when time has been taken to obtain every appli- 
ance for ensoiiiig saperior excellence ; bat sach a 



■ii^Hlva^^^^«BM«PP«*i«^^W^^>"«' 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 169 

number as^ conjoined with an entire new mo- 
delling of the typographical part, and the name 
of a celebrated and favouirite poet as its editor, 
did not fail to be received by the public with a 
kindness far beyond its literary merits. 

Perry, of the " Morning Chronicle,'* would not 
aid the new work, on account of the stolen title. 
" He is more nice than wise," I obseryed. " I 
do not see how he could do anything for us. He 
fears the name of the magazine will be a mis- 
chicTous example, but that must depend upon 
what we make of it.*' He objected to the word 
" New,'' while the '' Old " Monthly existed. '' He 
feels it was unhandsome to borrow the title of 
Phillips in order to lead off the dance against 
him— there was something ungracious in it.'' 

*' What is that to me ?" replied the poet ; " it 
was the act of Colburn ; if it was once a publi- 
cation directed against my political party^ I shall 
do good by putting an end to it as an instrument 
of annoyance to my friends. My acceptance of 
it was good policy, though I never had a thought 
upon the subject, for I did not know anything of 
its character ; I never saw a number of it until 
Colburn put it into my hand. The bitterer it was 
against my political friends, the more useful it 
must be to neutralize it." 

To this I assented, remarking to the poet that 



170 UTERABT REHINIBCENCEB AND 

the -world very well knew the email value of pub- 
lications Bet up in the mode the " New Monthly" 
was originally established, and that its change of 
form and its new political tendencies would do 
the rest. Still there was some soreness among 
Campbell's Whig iriends ; Sidney Smith and one 
or two others exhibited their shyness. Moore 
kept aloof, for he was too much alive to what 
this or that great man of his own side might say 
if he appeared in a garb that led the Whig 
nobility to believe he was coquetting with their 
opponents, the mere idea making him shrink even 
from the mere suspicion of contact with the party 
in power. 

A few weeks only had elapsed before Campbell 
and Dubois separated. Campbell was very re- 
served upon the subject, of which Mr. Colburn 
had duly informed me. The poet had now to 
re-compose his lectures, having, I imagine, de- 
stroyed the manuscript of those he had once 
delivered. He seemed pleased at perceiving there 
was some lessening of his labour, as a number 
of articles were so much below par it was idle to 
make any allusion to him regarding them. Du- 
bois had tired him by arguing upon the merits of 
each article. It was difficult to keep Campbell 
long together at business of any kind. He 
~')uld break away with a story, or fly off in a 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 171 

joke^ and abandon the business on the tapis^ with 
*• Well, that is enough for this time ; don't you 
think so ? can we keep the printer going ?" 

As we advanced, the poet became less fastidious. 
Scott wondered he did not maintain a better 
figure in the world than at this period, and 
thought he wanted audacity, and feared " the sha- 
dow of his own reputation/' The truth is, that 
Campbell was an idle man — an abstracted man ; he 
was not capable of leading long in anything; he had 
won a reputation, with which he was content ; 
unless he could increase it without hazard to 
what he possessed, and without protracted effort, 
this must be again repeated. 



172 UTERAUT REM1NISCKKCS8 AKD 



CHAPTEK VI. 

Bia0 of the Poet's stadies. — Hebrew researches. — Visit to 
Mr.Mnrraj of Albemarle Street. — Intended Magazine. — 
The Poet's jest.— Politics of the "New Monthly."— Epi- 
taph sent by Canning. — Blunder about Canning's letter. 
— ^Belzoni's introduction to the Poet. — Early con- 
tribations. — Blanco White. — ^Henry Matthews. — Ugo 
Foscolo's breakfast. 

^HE novelty of the first start of the new 
work being over^ Campbell returned to his 
German books^ until it was difficult to take 
his attention off when it was demanded. This no 
longer wanted^ he would turn the conversation to 
some historical or metaphysical point, in relation 
to which his mind had been occupied. A good 
deal of this turn for what is generally considered 
antithetic to the poetical character and the liveli- 
ness of its disposition, arose perhaps from his 
partiality for one or two of his old Glasgow in- 
structorSy of whom and their lectures on the driest 




MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 173 

subjects, he seemed eyer to carry in his mind an 
affectionate recollection. He reyerted to them as 
a subject of more than ordinary pleasure when he 
recurred to his earlier years. Boman lore and 
Kantian philosophy are not yery poetical topics. 
Howeyer this may haye been, Campbell was deep 
in German — not in the poetry — but the metaphy- 
sics and Biblical literature of that theorising coun- 
try. He ordered yolume upon yolume of German 
criticism from the booksellers, and redoubled his 
labours upon topics, regarding which the inyes- 
ligations of the critics of that country seemed to 
haye conyeyed to him new and interesting yiews. 
He declared that in England there was no idea of 
the amount of labour they had expended, and the 
consequent extent of information upon critical 
subjects of which the Germans were in possession. 
Reading the book of Job one day, to which 
among all the books of the Old Testament the 
poet seemed most partial, declaring it to be beau- 
tiful poetry of perhaps an older date than any 
other portion of the sacred yolume, he became 
puzzled about the English meaning of a word 
which might intend " a giant,'^ or be rendered 
"hell.'* He was anxious to decide upon the 
true translation. Upon remarking the important 
difference, he observed that the word occurred but 
twice in Job, and the understood meaning was a 



174 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

place shut up, the grave, the situation of the dead. 
" Deeper than hell," in Job, meant deeper than 
the grave, and such appeared to be the meaning 
of the word among the Jews. In the New Tes- 
tament it was applied to designate a place of 
punishment. How could the word ever mean a 
giant? 'He was iinsettled in mind, and vexed 
that he did not understand the Hebrew language 
critically. He was determined, he said, to work 
hard at a complete acquirement of that noble 
tongue. His intention he never carried into effect^ 
Buxtorf in a few months remained perfectly quiet 
upon its shelf. There were new things to attract 
his attention. He went more into company than 
had been his previous custom, and the effort to 
perfect himself in Hebrew quickly relaxed, aa 
was usual in relation to all his determinations in 
a degree proportionate to the intensity of the 
first resolution. 

While busy upon this favourite subject, h,e 
had determined to hunt out a rabbi, to consult 
upon the matter in doubt. Did I know of such 
a person ? I re com mended a Mr. Hart, a most 
excellent man of the Jewish persuasion, and 
father of the eminent artist of that name, in the 
Royal Academy, who taught Hebrew; and observed 
that I also knew Bellamy, who was translating the 
Htflde from the Hebrew direct, which I had heard 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 175 

had never before been done. Professor Lee of 
Cambridge had held a discussion with Bellamy^ in 
which, as far[as argument went — ^for of the dispute 
in relation to the Hebrew tongue I could be no 
judge — Bellamy had the best of it. Bellamy in- 
sisted on the use of vowels in translation, which 
Professor Lee opposed in no very urbane style, too 
often begging the question, and giving bold asser- 
tion for proof, defending the authorized ver- 
sion with all its admitted errors, as much as to say 
that the knowledge of eastern tongues, dialects, 
and customs elucidatory of the scriptures gene- 
rally was equal to what it is at present in the 
witch-burning age of James I* Thousands of er- 
rors, notorious enough, are known to exist in the 
present version, but it is time-consecrated. It 
would be troublesome to correct it, people are 
used to the present translation if it be a little 
erroneous, and then James was such a ^' pious" 
prince. It was not enquired how it came to pass 
that previous translations had been set aside. Like 
witch-burning, the tranllation had been settled 
by act of Parliament, and the clergy were averse 
to farther trouble on the matter; yet they 
would ground a rite, or some serious point of doc- 
trine, upon a disputed passage. So said Bellamy, 
with some appearance of justice, while the profes- 
sor admitted that in some cases the translators had 



► 



176 LITEB.ART REMINISCENCES AND 

mistaken the original. Not a moment's rest waa 
tnine tintil I introduced Bellamy. I brought the 
hebraiets together soon afterwards ; bat as I knew 
nothing of the language, the merits of the discus- 
sion I cannot correctly relate. I imagine the 
learned hebraist could not satisfactorily elucidate 
the mystery. Campbell afterwards remarked that 
he tliought Bellamy had not read a tithe of the 
modern German researcheB in Biblical literature. 
Some of these, from the freedom of their investiga- 
tion, were the results false or true, would not be 
matter of English discussion even when errors of 
translation were admitted. The Germans, right or 
wrong in inference, endeavoured to get at the truth, 
the rule in England it was to keep things as they 
were. It was rather the aim here to prop up what 
was fallacious out of prejudice, or even grounds 
that could not stand the test of reason. Little 
was known here in comparison with what was 
understood in Germany of the Hebrew language 
and its relations. If more were known, a new 
influence might be produced upon the general 
mind. Upon the mind of the poet there was an 
influence most unquestionably produced by what 
had been thus promulgated. His lectures show 
how closely he had read on the subject. 

Having began to recompose for the magazine 
what he had himself written and delivered on the 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 177 

subject of Hebrew poetry, in the midst of which 
he broke away suddenly, and turned to political 
economy. The dispute between Malthus and 
Godwin led him, when in appropriate company, to 
consider the merits of the difference between these 
two writers. He leaned to the side of Malthus, 
and annexed to a paper in the second number of 
the magazine, which he had himself procured, 
being full of the subject, a note expressive of a 
wish for its further discussion. The paper here 
alluded to was written by Place. Political econ- 
omy, it must be admitted, is no very poetical 
subject; yet Campbell made up his mind what 
side of the question to adopt, and was able to 
argue well in its defence. This, at least, exhibits a 
versatility of talent, and it is certain that in his 
better days he was capable, but for the vis inerties 
that ever hung upon him, of achieving much 
greater things, out of poetry, than he ever per- 
formed; but they would have been appreciated 
only by the well-educated and thinking part of 
the world. He might have written profoundly 
after his Biblical studies upon these, and produced 
a most interesting work. From these, he made no 
secret, originated the views he entertained upon 
our deficient knowledge of the old language and 
writings of Palestine. In a theological sense he 
thought the study well worthy of being carried 

VOL. 1. N 



178 LITERABT REMINISCENCES AND 

out. But amidst all^ even if he had believed them 
and had been inclined to labour^ he was not the 
man ^to promulgate bold novelties^ beyond the 
reach of his voice. He respected multitudinous 
ignorance so far as to fear the reaction upon his 
own fame^ if he wounded its obtuseness. In this 
there was something characteristic of his Scotch 
nationality. 

About Campbell^ if there were caution and sen- 
sitiveness^ there was nothing like craft. He was 
simple in mind^ and pure of intention. No one 
was less suspicious till suspicion was engendered 
Jby some pretty strong reason^ and then it was not 
to be put to sleep easily. He was sometimes im- 
posed upon by individuals who pretended to be 
literary characters, and solicited an introduction 
on the score of their necessities. Both the 
poet and Dubois were outwitted by a factitious 
paper, describing an author that never existed, in 
the first number of the work, entitled " On the 
Writings of Richard Clitherow." Afterwards 
others sent articles to him, furtively abstracted 
from obscure writers of the hour, a little verbally 
changed, which, from his habit of reading very 
little indeed of the current literature of the day, 
it was not in his power to detect. 

Murray had an idea of a magazine at this time, 
perhaps to rival Colbum. Wanting the address 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBKLL. 179 

of a friend one day, which the bookseller alone 
could give^ Campbell proposed to walk to Albe- 
marle Street. He always spoke of Murray in 
high terms, as he was but just in doing. With 
faults obvious enough, Mr. Murray possessed 
merit amply sufficient to throw them into the 
shade, when, too, it is recollected that many of 
his faults affected himself alone. Of gentlemanly 
feeling in business, which could not be said of all 
his calling, he was generous and considerate. « 
No one was ever regarded higher by men of all 
parties, whose regard was worth having. He drew 
around him the literary talent of the country of 
every rank, and commanded its esteem. Of those 
who survive their and his contemporaries in his 
more palmy days, there is not one who does not 
hold his memory in respect. It was unfortunate 
for him that he lived too fast for his health 
to continue — peace be to his miemory ! We en- 
tered the well-known, well-remedibered drawing- 
room, on the walls of which hung the portraits of 
some of the principal literary characters of the 
time. Among the rest, I remember Foscolo, who 
was afterwards ejected to the staircase, so it was 
said, in one of the bookseller's moments of angry 
feeling against the Italian, for which, perhaps, he 
had tolerable cause, and so took this harmless 

mode of showing his resentment. 

w 2 



180 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

'^ There lie is/' said Campbell, noting Foscolo's 
picture, "there is Ugo, by whom I dare say 
Murray has never gained a farthing — it is no bad 
resemblance of our friend's visage." 

At this moment Murray entered^ looking exceed- 
ingly well in healthy and almost free from that 
nervousness which came upon him in subsequent 
years. After the usual salutation, he said, '^I 
was just thinking, Mr. Campbell, why you did 
not come to me. I would have started a magazine 
under your editorship — now you are editor of an 
old one.** 

" Why did not the girl marry the sweetheart 
the world gave her," said Campbell, *^ but because 
he never asked her t" 

'^ If I had thought of asking, then, it would 
have been done, Mr. Campbell ? I was quite pre- 
pared for such a work." 

" It is too late now," observed Campbell, " the 
agreement has been signed. — I want the address 
of my friend, Mr. , which you can give me.** 

Murray went to procure it, returned, and fol- 
lowing him, came in a lunch. There was no 
escaping Murray's hospitality in those times. 

" You should feast your friends out of skulls, 
as Peter Pindar told you," said Campbell; "it 
would be emblematic." 

Murray cited some work that he had suggested 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 181 

himself, to prove that booksellers sometimes put 
ideas into authors' skulls. 

*' You get out double what you put into them ; 
you would not take it back as naked as you gave 
it." 

" Murray does business well, leave him his own 
way," Campbell remarked; "in that respect he 
is the first man of his day. I have met more 
noted men of talent under his roof than under 
any other, except that of Lord Holland and 
of Rogers." 

Capricious at times, and of a quick temper, 
this renowned bibliopolist possessed qualitieg 
suited to his profession, as already said, and of a 
high order too; and, more than all, he had 
the art of giving a refusal with a good grace. 
He was also punctual in his replies, as indeed in 
all his deaUng8 with tU genus irritabUe, whose sins 
condemn them to ** dip themselves in ink.'* 

Murray would have established a magazine 
even then, under other auspices ; the matter was 
talked over in Albemarle Street. It was proposed 
that the leading writers on the Tory side should 
be its principal contributors, for it was agreed, of 
course, by some, that the publication ought to 
bear a high political tone — in other words, be a 
high-flying State and Church publication. This 
was objected to, it was whispered^ in more than 



182 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

one quarter. The differences on this point con- 
tinued until the affair died away, and nothing 
came of it. Had Campbell undertaken a new 
magazine for'Murray, and not edited one for Col- 
burn, he would not have consented to connect his 
name with a publication that would admit of a 
construction injurious to his known Whig senti- 
ments, by permitting the insertion of articles op- 
posed to them. Murray^s house, though visited 
by men of all opinions, was considered more 
immediately the head-quarters of the class of poli- 
ticians immediately connected with the " Quar- 
^rlj Review." With most of those who visited 
at Albemarle Street, the poet was acquainted, and 
sometimes found himself the only man of his 
party present. On one occasion, when he had 
just left, finding none of his friends there, it 
was remarked to him that he had remained but a 
short time. 

" I felt myself a sojourner in a strange land," 
was his remark ; ^^ I did not like to be the only 
one of my party." 

Campbell's Scripture quotation here recalls a 
laughable allusion he once made from the same 
imagery. He was often bored by copies of verses 
being sent to his house, or given to him in society, 
written by young ladies, and overflowing with all 
sorts of sentimentality. Sometimes ^' mamma" 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 183 

or " papa" would request the favour of the poet's 
giving his opinion of the stanzas of ''miss/' 
Girls of the present day begin to "do" poetry 
much earlier than boys ; and five to one of the 
former in number to one of the latter commit 
their girlishness this way, always imagining rhyme 
to be poetry. 

" Don't you think. Mr. Campbell, my cousin's 
or my daughter's are charming verses ?" 

" Yes, their genius will shine by and by — that 
is my opinion/' said some of the company, in the 
way of flattery. 

" Don't you think them good, Mr. Campbell ?" 
was in such cases particularly annoying to him, 
put as a query. 

"Don't you think my daughters* verses" — 
there were two who rhymed in this instance — 
" show promise, Mr. Campbell — you must be a 
judge ? They may be a little obscure yet — more 
practice, and then they may shine." 

" No doubt, ma'am," said Campbell. He then 
turned and observed to a friend, in a low tone : 
" We are not to see the brightness of these lady 
Gideonites until their pitchers are broken !" 

The poet, I have already said, had never in- 
quired nor thought about the politics of the work 
of which he had undertaken to be editor, nor even 
directed what might be its tone. He did not 



184 LITERARY R£MINISC£NC£S AND 

mention the subject. I had all the double-column 
matter to my own share^ and of the political ar- 
ticle I made a mere register^ free of party spirit. 
From the first number to the last the tendency 
of those articles, in consequence, neyer became 
an affair of conversation. This shows how neg- 
ligent the poet was upon points of moment. 

Among his intimate inends at this time was 
the Honourable Thomas Peregrine Courtenay. 
Scarcely was a portion of the first number in 
the printer's hands, before that gentleman brought 
from Mr. Canning an epitaph on his son, George 
Charles Canning, a proof of the kindly feeling of 
that distinguished statesman towards the new un- 
dertaking. It is probable that more might have 
been contributed by Canning, the only individual 
who had held so high an office in the government 
of this country, during the present century, who 
was in the true sense of the word a literary man, 
though not on that account the more esteemed by 
the class that in those days possessed overwhelm- 
ing power. An incident^ arising from Camp- 
bell's forgetfulness, put an end to such an expecta- 
tion. Courtenay brought a second communication 
from Canning, in the copy of a letter which that 
distinguished statesman had written to Mr. 
Bolton, of Liverpool, explanatory of the circum- 
stances of a resignation so honourable to his 



mi*P«"i««MP«P«MPI««Mnip«««aai««PmH^9«PPHnPHH«HViHV«MV«lill««Bi 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 185 

memory. He had come to the resolution of re- 
signing, because he would be no party to the 
proceedings carrying on against the queen ; and 
that, too, though the king, he stated, had com- 
manded him to remain in ofEce, " abstaining as 
completely as he might think fit from any share 
in the proceedings respecting the royal consort.'* 
He renewed the tender of his resignation even 
after this, and it was at last accepted. Now, as 
the letter was confidential, and had originated in 
a paragraph published in the Courier^ Courtenay 
had only, as he imagined, to leave the copy, ex- 
plaining to Campbell that it was merely to be 
used as a guide in putting together the political 
article, not, of course, to be given verbatim, for 
various urgent reasons. Campbell received the 
letter, and, in his careless way, said, giving it 
into my hand, 

" This belongs to your part of the magazine ; 
Mr. Canning has sent it by Courtenay." 

*' To be inserted entire ?*' 

^^ Yes, I suppose he means that." 

The difference between making use of the 
substance of such a letter, and avoiding the pub- 
lication of the verbatim copy, essential as it was, 
did not occur to the poet. I saw Courtenay, by 
accident, before he had seen Campbell, and he 
stated the purpose of his giving the letter. 



186 LITERAEY REMINISCENCES AND 

Such was the poet's forgetfulness and want of 
habitude in editing. 

About this time, while reading 'upon Eastern 
literature, he found I knew Belzoni. He said if 
I would introduce him, he should be highly gra- 
tified. I met Belzoni in Piccadilly soon after- 
wards, and mentioned the poet's desire ; Belzoni 
was equally desirous of knowing Campbell. We 
started immediately for the poet's lodgings, pro- 
ceeding up Bond Street, and had not got much 
further than the end of Conduit Street, when we 
observed several persons close at our heels, and 
others staring at us, which, indeed, Belzoni's 
herculean limbs and gigantic stature of nearly 
seven feet might well occasion ; but as we pro- 
ceeded, a voice here and there was heard 
exclaiming, '* That is Bergami !" " That is Ber- 
gami !" llie unseemly aSair between George the 
Fourth and his queen was then the town talk. 
Poor Belzoni quietly said, " We had. better get 
6ut of this crowded street." We turned into 
Hanover Square, followed by a number of im- 
pertinents for some distance, then crossed Oxford 
Street into Cavendish Square, avoiding the main 
thoroughfares, and quickly got clear. I intro- 
duced Belzoni as Bergami, to Campbell, who 
laughed heartily at the joke. 

Much conversation about the East followed. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 187 

Many of the poet's questions were curious, some- 
times too erudite for the modest and good Italian, 
who avowed the extent of his acquirements with 
great candour, and said that he had devoted him- 
self most to mechanics all his life. That he had 
applied his knowledge that way in Egypt, before 
he used it in disclosing the remains of Egyptian 
antiquity. He spoke of his extraordinary strength, 
and of all he had achieved, but with great modesty. 
Campbell was curious to learn from him some- 
thing about the Copts and their language ; but 
Belzoni knew little of the race compared to the 
Arabs, of whom his knowledge was extensive. 
The Copts, it appeared, were superior persons as 
accountants, and generally thought to be of the 
genuine Egyptian race. The poet continued 
some time after this interview to talk frequently 
of the Coptic, which, he stated, was borrowed from 
the Greek. I ventured to remark that in such a 
case it could not have been, the language of 
Thebes, for Homer evidently shows by his allu- 
sion that in his day Egypt was an old country 
and Thebes a mighty city, that the Greek must 
be presumed to be the younger language ; but the 
poet dissented. 

The Rev. Blanco White at this time lodged at 
Chelsea, in Hsmus Terrace, and began his well- 
known '^ Letters of Don Leucadio Doblado." 



188 LITEEARY REMINISCENCES AND 

He was a sombre^ pale-yisaged man, with much 
of the Spanish character in his features, and ap- 
proaching fifty years of age ;* an agreeable com- 
panion, and full of information upon a great variety 
of subjects. No two individuals could have been 
more dissimUar in mind and appearance than 
White and the poet. There seemed to be some- 
thing continually pressing upon the mind of 
White, and giving it a sickly cast. The unfixed - 
ness of his religious tenets would hardly have 
been deemed a part of his character, which rather 
impressed upon his bearing a serious determina- 
tion of purpose in all things — an unchangeable- 
ness of principle and action, while he was in 
reality for ever changing. He arrived in England 
in 1810, having formed an acquaintance previously 
in Spain, with Lord Holland. In his letters he 
pictured many of his doubts about religion, and 
the struggles he endured to free himself from the 
shackles the Catholic faith had imposed upon 
him. He went to Oxford in 1814, and attached 
himself to the Church of England. He was, in 
fact, an unhappy, doubting man, incapable of 
finding repose in any creed, from his conscientious 
scruples. 

Besides the " Letters of Doblado,*' White 
wrote a number of very interesting sketches from 

• He died in May, 1841. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 1S9 

Spanish history, some polemical works^ and edited 
a " Review" for a short time. Poor White ! His 
bland manner and quiet delivery formed a strong 
contrast to Campbell's impulsiveness, and, at times, 
even impetuosity of manner. White would talk 
of Seville and Andalusia with much interest, 
speaking with great deliberation, and describing 
the people and country with all the feeling of an 
ardent attachment, in a mode that showed as well 
he was a man of nice discrimination. ^* White," 
said Campbell, '^ is wasting his life about theolo- 
gical differences ; he had better hand them over 
to arbitration, and settle them for ever." 

White at last became the devotee almost wholly 
to his theological reveries, furnishing the melan- 
choly picture of a man clever and good absorbed 
in unessential scruples, which it was wonderful 
should beset a mind so well stored, and with such 
talents as he undoubtedly possesed. 

Matthews — Henry Matthews, author of the 
" Diary of an Invalid," who died at Ceylon in 
1829, a puisne judge in that colony, was the fifth 
son of Mr. Matthews^ of Belmont, near Hereford, 
who preceded him to the grave two years. He 
was brother to Matthews, the intimate friend of 
the present Lord Boughton ; the same, too, who 
is spoken of as so extraordinary a young man by 
Byron in his correspondence with Mr. Murray, 



190 LITKRARY REMINISCENCES AND 

as one of the monks of Newstead Abbey : he was 
unfortunately drowned. Henry Matthews pos- 
sessed talents of the highest order, a sound judg- 
ment and polished manners; he was an elegant scho- 
lar, and generous in disposition. In the private 
relations of life he was affectionate and exemplary, 
with manly sentiments and a lively, playful ima- 
gination ; he loved literature for its own sake, nor 
were there any of the anticipations indulged in 
his regard befdre he reached the judicial bench at 
all contradicted. His decease was deemed a 
public loss in Ceylon. Called away by his duties 
to a distant colony, £ngland was deprived of the 
benefit of his labours too early. He wrote the 
" Journal of Jonathan Kentucky," and in one of 
his papers commented with merited severity on 
the system of flogging boys from ?iine to nineteen 
years of age in the orthodox seminaries in this 
country. On the system of fagging he was not 
so severe as on that of flogging. He thought the 
practical eflect of fagging was good. Campbell 
declared against the latter doctrine altogether. 
Campbell, as was often the case at the outset, 
could not get rid of the idea that the public 
would think the contributors' sentiments were his 
own. Upon suggesting the incompleteness of the 
article if mutilated, he requested the insertion of 
a note, ^^That the editor protested against the 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. Id I 

opinions." Matthews laughed at the poet's sen- 
sitiveness on the matter^ and observed^ truly 
enough^ that if Campbell thought to reconcile the 
opinions of every contributor to his own views 
upon all subjects^ the work would be a magazine 
only in the titles of the articles. Matthews 
wrote some verses from Horace, and a paper on 
the character of Socrates. The last contained 
truths peculiarly applicable to the present time, 
which sees the vices of contemporaries treated 
with ineffable indulgence, while doubts regard* 
ing great men of the past, are raised upon every, 
possible occasion. " Horace Walpole/* said 
Matthews, " introduced the fashion of historical 
doubting by his amusing speculations on Richard 
III. Dalrymple followed him in an attempt of 
an opposite kind, by endeavouring to degrade 
the honoured names of Sidney and Russell from 
the consecrated place they -occupy in the recol- 
lection of their countrymen ; and we should not 
be much surprised at some future appeal to our 
sympathy in behalf of the hapless Jonathan Wild, 
who will, we make no doubt, turn out at least to 
have been a much-injured personage, and most un- 
feelingly misrepresented by the partial compiler of 
the * Newgate Calendar.' " Campbell remarked 
on the truth of this passage, and since his death 



192 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

more than once I have verified its soundness in 
calumnies regarding himself. 

Henry Boscoe^ the youngest son of the " His- 
torian of the Medici," was in person tall like his 
father. Exceedingly well read, with much fancy, 
and commanding a variety of subject, great in 
range for one of his years, he was condemned to 
the study of the law. He was a great and de- 
served friend of the poet. He died under the 
most flattering prospects in his professional career, 
not long after he had married, when the toil of 
years seemed about to bring him a cheering 
recompense in merited success. 

Foscolo has been already named. A very sin- 
gular man, uniting opposite qualities, and gene- 
rally very pleasing in the early part of an ac- 
quaintance. Lord Holland wrote to a friend soon 
after his arrival in England, in 1816, " we are all 
engoues with him ;'* so was everybody, even out of 
Lord Holland's circle. Campbell was a sincere 
admirer of his talents, but was not much in the 
habit of courting his company, on account of his 
fiery temper, which shocked the poet*s nerves. 
It was impossible to hold an argument with 
Foscolo, unless prepared to encounter his out- 
breaks; and yet there was no one from whom 
more information upon subjects particularly in- 
eresting to literary men could be obtained. In 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 193 

Greek literature Foscplo was profound, and 
Campbell always deferred to him ; nor was he less 
learned than his friend Farini in that of Italy. 
Campbell would ofiten begin a conyersation upon 
the lyric poets of Greece, and give Foscolo full 
swing, until the last got away to Homer, the 
certain termination of the Italian to any discus- 
sion upon Greek poetry. 

"Ah! Mr. Camp-bell, you do not believe 
' veritablement,' how do you say that Homer 
was a pedlar, no, no, I mean a beggar ?" 

Here was ground to begin a dispute. Camp- 
bell would reply that he believed Homer was 
neither the one nor the other — ^if he were inclined 
to believe the great epic was either, he should 
incline to the opinion of his having been a 
pedlar, because then he shbuld have some reason 
to infer he was a Scotchman, so many Campbells 
being of that trade, and that he should thus get 
honour for the land of cakes. ^ 

'^ Now, Mr. Campbell, you know it was a lapsus 
lingua.^* 

By no chance could Foscolo get Campbell into 
a dispute ; all his efforts to that end were dexter- 
ously parried, after the poet's ingenious way of 
raising a dispute and backing out of it. Foscolo 
understood and spoke English well ; but when he 
grew warm in discussion, he intermingled it 

VOL. I. . o 



194 LITBRAET E£MINISC£NCBS AND 

with French and Italian in themoatextraordinaiy 
manner. 

The venerable Boscoe^ of Liyerpool, being in 
London^ Foscolo invited him to breakfast in 
Wigmore Street. There he was once founds shut 
up and working by candle-light at noon, on a fine 
summerVday, upon an article for the '^ Quarterly 
Review.'* Campbell going down George Street 
met Foscolo ; I was with him. He asked us both 
to meet Roscoe. The party was small ; all came 
at the appointed hour but Rogers. It was near 
twelve o'clock, and some one present said Rogers 
had forgotten his old theme, ** memory," or there 
would have been a chance of breakfast being over 
before that time. 

" Ah," said Foscolo, " Mr. Rogers does not 
get up until eleven o'clock, so we will give him 
the full hour to come.*' 

Campbell grumbled, and said that as things 
went, there was no hope of breakfast for anybody ; 
he would have the inscription over hell-gate put 
up at the door — 

" Lasciate ogni speranza voi che'ntrate." 

*' No, no. Mister Camp-bell," rejoined Foscolo, 
" that cannot be true unless you go away — ^where 
you are, there must be the * Pleasures of Hope.' " 

He rang the bell for breakfast, want of atten- 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBBLL. 195 

tion to his guests being no failing of Foscolo. 
The breakfast brought up^ including tea^ the 
last^ by accident^ led to some remarks on the 
nature and cultivation of the tea-plant in the 
leaf; from thence to a mention of the Georgics, 
and then to Virgil generally, with a good deal of 
laudation of the £oman poet on the part of Boscoe. 
This was more than Foscolo could bear. He 
thought nothing of the Mantuan bard compared 
to the great epic of Greece. He accused Virgil 
of stealing all he was ever worth from the poet 
of " Scio's rocky isle ;" he paralleled different pas- 
sages with a wonderful knowledge of the subject 
upon which he argued, and on which, indeed, he 
was well worth hearing. The rest of the com- 
pany was silent. Roscoe looking the Roman 
whose cause he championed^ was all deliberation 
and coolness, while Foscolo^ so warm in his tem- 
perament, and so impetuous in argument, poured 
forth words in a torrent^ half English, half foreign, 
as he always did when excited. The scene was 
highly amusing. Roscoe was unruffled, while 
Foscolo, who could scarcely rein in his temper^ 
made, in consequence, the most extravagant 
assertions, according to his habit under such cir- 
cumstances. The calmness of that fine, noble- 
looking old man of seventy, rather excited Fos- 
colo ; his imperturbability appearing a species of 

o 2 



196 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

proTocation to the Italian^ who reverenced 
Homer as an ancient did Jupiter. How long the 
contest would have continued it was difficult to 
tell. It was put an end to by Campbell archly 
asking .Foscolo whether the identity of Homer 
could be relied upon^ becaiise ^ome had asserted 
that he was no other than Solomon^ King of the 
Jews. The consequent laugh when the poet 
added^ with apparent seriousness^ that as it was 
believed among the literati in the city-corporation^ 
that Sir William Curtis had written the Letters of 
Junius^ he thought the question of the epic 
authorship should be first decided. There was 
something about Campbell's jests^ from his 
manner, which told with great efiect, when there 
was really little humour in them. When the 
laugh had evaporated, the last hot breath of the 
discussion disappeared with it. 

This sort of jesting was often the resource of 
the poet to put an end to an argument that he 
did not wish should proceed further, by which 
he feared unpleasant warmth would be pro- 
duced, or that he felt too indolent to protract. 
Numerous topics were in this way subsequently 
touched upon and dismissed. It was about the 
dinner hour when the party quitted its host, and 
before a conversation terminated between men 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 197 

whose characters could not but impart to it a 
deep interest. 

Sir Charles Morgan was one the of poet's circle. 
His talents were solid rather than showy. Camp- 
bell said^ he never sat down with Sir Charles that 
he did not gain some new view of an argument. 
Whenever Sir Charles came to town from Dublin, 
he was certain to be one at the poet's symposia. 

Talfourd^ connected with Colburn as a dra- 
matic critic^ contributed many excellent papers 
upon other topics. Among them was one which 
early exhibited Campbell's sensitiveness. It was 
entitled ^' Modem Improvements^'^ and conveyed 
a tacit censure upon the innovations time was 
causing on every hand. Campbell oddly enough 
annexed to it a species of postscript^ which was 
no more than an effort to show^ in an indirect 
way^ that the doctrine in the article was not the 
editor's own. In this postscript * he pretended^ 
with an attempt at humour^ not very successful^ 
that the article was written by a member of the 
opposition^ whose sentiments were Tory^ one 
George Fertinax Growler^ Esq., of Kennel Howl- 
bury Hall, Berkshire^ who called Waterloo 
Bridge a ^'splendid nuisance/' and was nigh 
disinheriting a son for writing a sonnet to the 
Steam-engine^ and addressing it ^' Hail ! wonder- 
working power I" " We have given a place to 



198 UTEBAET KBMIKISCSNCIS AHD 

the forgoing article, which, though it came anony-* 
moufily, leaves a fall conviction on onr mind that 
it is the work of no other pen than that of our 
late lamented and worthy friend, George Pertinax 
Grrowler, Esq., of Kennel Howlbnry Hall, Berks, 
who represented that comity daring many sacces- 
.siye parliaments, and, though a Tory, was a 
zealous member of the Opposition. Bespect for 
the memory of our beloved Grrowler, overcomes 
all the reluctance of our personal opinion as to 
the inadmissibility of the paper. Poor George, 
the last time we saw him in London, he refiued 
to dine with us, merely because we had taken an 
eighteen-penny row by water, one beautiful 
summer morning, in order to look at that ' splendid 
nuisance,' Waterloo Bridge, shordy after its com- 
pletion* He may be wrong as to the blessings 
which society derives from mendicants, or as to 
the advantages that would have accrued to legal 
eloquence from the inebriety of lawyers; and he 
strikes us as heretical on the subject of the Bible 
Society. But let none imagine that George 
Grrowler was himself addicted to the bottle, or an 
encourager of vicious mendicity, or an enemy to 
the education of the poor. On the contrary, he 
had no failing even in principle, except alarm at 
innovation — to that he was indeed an enemy. The 
orphan nephew, of whom he speaks, was the 



MEMOIRS OF TfiOMAS CAMPBELL. 199 

subject of his tender but very troublesome 
thoughts. The youth was detected by his uncle, 
at the age of nineteen, in having become a member 
of the new philosophical club, a very genteel one, 
that met for literary and liquid recreation at tfa'e 
Cat and Bagpipes. This circumstance required 
our intervention to propitiate the old gentleman's 
wrath. The word new, as his nephew said, would 
have offended him even in the mention of the 
'New Jerusalem.' The same poor nephew 
being afterwards smit at Birmingham with the 
love of sacred song, a second time offended him, 
almost to the danger of disinheritance, by writing 
a Sonnet on the Steam-engine, which began, 
* Hail, wonder-working power !' but we happily 
made up the breach. Bred a Tory by his father, 
who hated the Hanoverian rats, George Growler 
at first opposed the late Mr. Pitt, as a presump- 
tuous young minister, and latterly because he 
flagged in Tory zeal behind Mr. Burke. What 
side he would have taken now in politics, can only 
be conjectured ; to us it seems, he would have 
still opposed ministers as the most Radical of in- 
novators. Be that as it may, he departed this 
life in 1818. His death was occasioned by a fever, 
on which the opinions of his physician and apo- 
thecary were divided. The former pronounced 
it nervous^ and occasioned by the conversation of 



200 LITXRART REHINJSCKMCES AND 

9 

bis neighbour. Sir Francis Fluent, on tbe subject 
of ^ New Improyements ;' the latter attributed 
it to a typhus infection, caught during one of his 
walks, in stopping to speak with a Cumberland 
beggar." 

About an article on ^^ French and English Tra- 
gedy," a month or two afterwards, containing a 
literary position which he could not sanction, he 
felt again the sensitiyeness thus exhibited. He 
dreaded lest the world should attribute the 
opinions the article held to himself, and there- 
fore requested I woidd insert a note attached 
to the manuscript — ^for it had beei^ ^ent direct 
to his house by Mr. William Wallace — stating 
that he did not consider himself pledged to 
support the opinions expressed by his contri- 
butors. It was vain to argue with him on the 
matter at first. When a number or two of the 
work had been published, he became convinced 
that his scruples were wrong, the public being 
little giyen to judge erringly on such a matter. 

Talfourd wrote some of the reviews. All these 
were eminently adapted to the character of the 
publication, whether grave or descriptive of ex- 
isting life, whether critical or argumentative ; but 
enough has been shown to exhibit of what class of 
individuals the contributors to this celebrated 
periodical was composed under the poet's earlier 
editorship. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 201 



CHAPTER VII. 

Oondnct of the new work nnder Campbell. — An^stnB 
William Schlegel. — ^Liieraiy dinner. — Singular dispute, 
and Schlegers yictory. — Anecdote of the East India 
Company. — The anonymous contributor. — The poetry of 
Johns. — Sotheby.— The preface.— The Queen's case.— - 
Shiel, Curran, Banim, Grattan, Sullivan, Emerson 
Tennant. — Song written at Sydenham. — The Poet's 
alterations. — CampbelPs feelings in regard to Sir Walter 
Scott. 

JHE £iult of the new work^ iinayoidable 
under an editorship that consisted in a ne- 
gative^ and not a positive, realization of the 
duty, was that it wanted an identification with, or 
a reflection from some strong mind. The change 
of form, and the name of Campbell, gave the 
work a valuable impetus, and much changed the 
condition of that kind of periodical literature. 
It must of necessity have furnished a striking 
contrast to the old magazines. It must have 




202 LITSRART REMINISCENCES AND 

shown a more refined literary taste^ and displayed 
much more elegance in scholarship, as well as 
abounded more in matter of an amusing character, 
not neglecting information, portions relating to 
the drama, the arts and sciences, and biography, 
in the way of fact. But the rage for what was 
" fashionable," a term ever antagonistic to 
all that is really tasteful, learned, energetic, and 
truth-telling, ran strong with the superficial public. 
Campbell was not the man to lead in anything 
bold or ndvel, either in literary or political wri-^ 
ting. I have before observed, that his duty was 
negatively fulfilled. What he did was on com- 
pulsion, and a burden, however light in reality. 
His temperament and habits forbade his indulging 
the prospect patiently, much less meting out a 
hundredth part of the attention requisite to infuse 
a warmth of feeling through the work which 
should make it kindle the hearts and move the 
affections of its readers. I do not believe the 
poet ever read through a single number of the 
magazine during the whole ten years he was its 
editor. The work might have developed im- 
portant views, and taken a much higher literary 
standing, but Campbell had no idea of following 
out such objects. When he wrote himself upon 
any subject that involved a question of public ad« 
vantage or private utility, he was ever what the 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 203 

man and the poet should be, eloquent, elevated, 
liberal^ and earnest. But he had no idea of 
" wielding," if I may so say, " the democracy^* of 
the literature he might have swayed to excellent 
purpose, in order to press forward great points, 
or make deep impressions on the mind of the 
reader, through glowing associations produced by 
the strong unshackled efforts of his own, and the 
well-tempered pens of others who partook in his 
views. 

Of this he had no notion, if some may think 
he had. He never attempted, wisely never at- 
tempted, what everyone who knew him well, 
knew he had not the enduring energy to sustain 
through half-a-dozen numbers. The poet all 
through avoided discussion, however slight. I 
doubt too, .whether, in composing his beautiful 
verses, he ever felt pleasure after the period of 
youthful anticipation was past, and with it the 
enthusiastic hope of that period of life. Regarding 
poetical composition as a labour, it cannot be sup- 
posed he could ever have contemplated with 
aught but horror the heavy work of a magazine, 
in which, to produce an impression for high pur- 
poses, he should become an animating spirit. It 
was impossible he could follow up such an aim, or 
feel that enthusiasm in the task which is essential to 
every man so placed to balance the drudgery. It 



204 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

is enough, however, that Campbell had no such 
aspirations. The periodical, in its unparalleled 
success, must be judged, after all, as a work 
better suited to the mere reading public, than 
adapted to the ideal excellence and lofty desires of 
those who have thought deeply, acquired much 
knowledge, and would fain move the feelings of 
mankind to lofty ends. It is probable that some- 
what of a stronger political bias might have pro- 
minently appeared, and Campbell, on conversing 
upon the subject, gave his full assent to such a 
course, but a phrase or two remarked upon as 
ultra-liberal were mentioned to the publisher by 
one of those persons who affect to disapprove what 
they do not understand, sometimes in order to re- 
commend themselves to those who look at literature 
and the invention of printing in the sense, strictly 
modern, of a medium to money-making alone. 
This gossip gave an alarm, to which Campbell did 
not seem disposed to yield, while he really did 
yield to the influence. So that the range of the 
discussion in matters of state policy, as^in those of 
utility, did not rise above the level of a qualified 
reasoning, though now and then it soared a little 
higher, but never to the elevation it should have 
done. No periodical work loses anything by de- 
cision. When it limits its tendency to be a bold 
supporter of a given principle, it displeases those 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 205 

who are opposed to it in sentiinent, and loses the 
advantage of rising to the summit of esteem 
among those holding the same opinions, by be- 
coming the half-speaking advocate. Campbell 
might have served his friends, and greatly aided, 
if not led, in the promulgation of those great 
public truths which time had successively de- 
veloped after the publication under his editor- 
ship appeared. But from such a demonstration 
the poet would have shrunk, not from the moral 
character of the task, and the prospect of public 
good it involved, but because it would have ap- 
peared to his optics in the prospective labour, 
second only to the erection of an Egyptian pyra- 
mid. Tact, too, would have been wanting. He 
was never able to compass the leading article for 
a newspaper ; not that he did not possess a hun- 
dred times more information than was necessary 

• 

for such a common-place affair, but that he could 
not clothe his thoughts in language with sufficient 
rapidity, under the idea of editorial responsibility. 
Thus, devoid of the celerity required, he had no 
chance, in any other mode, of attaining a dexte- 
rity with which even practice could hardly have 
endowed one of his peculiar habits. 

The poet removed his lodgings in town from 
Margaret Street to No. SO, Foley Place, about the 
commencement of 1822, still keeping his house. 



206 LITERARY BEMINISCENCBS AND 

at Sydenham. It was before this time^ T am per- 
suaded from recollection, that tlie introduction of 
the elder Roscoe to Scott took place at Campbell's 
residence. Scott was in town at the coronationi 
which occurred the year before. It was singular 
that these celebrated men had never met before. 
I do not remember the great novelist being at the 
poet's lodgings at any other time^ and as he was 
seldom in London, I think if he had been I must 
remember it Yet^ against my recollection, 
Henry Roscoe^ in his father's life^ speaks of the 
introduction as happening in the following year. 
A memory infallible as to a date after the lapse of 
thirty-four or five years would be a valuable 
faculty, but there is a sort of instinct that some- 
times stamps a persuasion of correctness. The pre- 
sence of Scott at Campbell's first lodgings in 
Margaret Street I well remember. However 
this may be, the great novelist was in good spirits, 
and told an entertaining story about a horse goiug 
off and leaving a bridle on his arm, Mrs. Camp- 
bell not controlling her laughter. The parti- 
cular points I cannot recall. Campbell was in 
good spirits. I took coffee there, and during our 
chat, Campbell said : *^ I have a mind to try an 
impromptu." ^* I fancy that such things are not 
so much your forte as Theodore Hook's," I ob- 
served. *' WeU, I will try. Leave me alone for 



MSMOIBS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 207 

a few minutes/^ I took up a book. Campbell 
quickly repeated the following lines : — 

Quoth the South to the North, " In your comfortless sky 
Not a nightingale sings :" — ** True," the North made reply; 
" Bat your nightingales' warblings I envy yon not. 
When I think of the strains of my Bums and my Scott !*' 

" There is my impromptu, and you imagined I 
was not equal to making one V '*Now then the 
lines should be put upon paper/' I rejoined, and 
he immediately wrote down the words with a title, 
*' Impromptu by Thomas Campbell.^ The original 
as thus written down I have had in my possession 
from that hour, nor was there ever a copy made 
of it. I carried it off, saying, " This is mine, 
which I shall keep as a curiosity, a memento of 
the meeting." It affords a pleasing evidence of 
that kindly feeling which distinguished Campbell, 
although from his reserve it was too seldom as- 
cribed to him, or was only perceived in exercise 
upon isolated occasions. With him the feeling was 
ever present, however latent, and appearing 
suddenly though not habitually observable, was the 
more striking. With his charitable feelings it was 
the same kind of impulsive action as in other cases. 
Thus of some picture of suffering related to him 
he would form an exaggerated idea, fancy it 
greater than the reality, draw from imagination 



208 LITERARY REMINISCE^NCBS AND 

attributes of misery, painful enough to him at all 
times, judge of what he had not seen by what he 
had, and supposing positive consequence from 
gratuitous inference^ he would give more than he 
need or ought tp bestow. 

Augustus William Schlegel visited England, 
and while here received an invitation to dine 
at Colburn's, in Conduit Street. A few friends 
were invited to meet him. Of the party, besides 
Campbell, were Felix Bodin, to. whom Thiers 
owes so much of his good fortune ; Edward Bla- 
quiere, who perished in an untimely manner at sea, 
and I forget who more. Incidentally the subje 
led to verbal exclamations among the different 
nations of Europe. In the course of these re- 
marks, Schlegel observed how much the language 
of England had received in the way of accession 
since the time of Queen Elizabeth, and that we 
continued to import new words from all parts of 
the globe as we imported merchandise. There 
was no foretelling where it would end. The En- 
glish was now one of the most copious of modern 
languages. It was to be feared it would soon be 
corrupted. Journalism, too often in the hands of 
men not adequate by education to their duties, nor 
endowed with a single literary feeling, tended to 
increase the mischief, from such individuals 
having no preference as to words, adopting in the 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 209 

Journals^ and passing current^ the slang of the 
vulgar. Such depreciating introductions were to 
be lamented^ for the English would ere long be 
the language of a fourth of the world."*^ All low 
and vulgar clippings and phrases thus introduced 
were so many injuries to the pure dialect. Even 
the Cossack ^^hourra" had been naturalised in 
England. 

*' Stay, my friend," said Campbell, ^' hurrah is 
an old Englisl^ exclamation." 

" Not so very old," replied SchlegeL 

" Oh, yes," said several voices at once. 

" It is not as old as Shakspeare's time/' said 
Schlegel ; '^ it is not as old as Elizabeth." 

Blaquiere, in his thoughtless way, said he was 
certain it was older. Campbell declared the same. 
Bodin was silent. 

" Might it not mean originally a noise, a storm, 
and be from the French houragan ?" 

'* We never borrowed the word from the cut- 
throat Cossacks," said Campbell ; " we have only 

* How tnily this apprehension has been fulfilled there 
is but too much evidence. One of these innovations is no^ 
found in some writers of mark, picked up from the penny- 
a-liners with whom it originated. A house now " is being 
built/' and to strike another is called "pitching into 
him !" ' 

VOL. I. * P 



210 LITERARY R£MINISC£NC£8 AND 

just heard of the existence of the saTBges — it is a 
word of long usage in this country." 

" Borrowed or not of the Cossacks/' rejoined 
Schlegel, '* you will not find it in your old writers, 
neither in Shakspeare, nor in Shakspeare's time. 
It must have been introduced since. I am better 
qualified than any one present to judge of such 
minutise in the poet. I know every word he has 
used. His translation iitco German cost me years 
of hard study." • 

Some one remarked that the word " huzza" was 
in Shakspeare, and that " hurrah" was, perhaps, 
originally a provincial corruption of the word as 
old as Elizabeth. 

" Huzza is not in Shakspeare either," said 
Schlegel, with emphasis. 

Campbell, rather stimulated by Schlegel's posi- 
tiveness, and without a wary consideration of the 
question, acting, too, as he always did, under the 
impulse of momentary bias rather than cool 
reflection, said to Schlegel : — 

" My &iend, you are wrong. I am quite clear 
the word is in Shakspeare. We never borrowed 
it of those Russians. We were never enough in 
their good company to steal it of them. Besides, 
I recollect the word in a number of old songs." 

** That may be," replied Schlegel, with pertina- 
cious confidence ; ^' I do not believe the word was 



MEMOIRS Of THOMAS CAMPBjQLL. 211 

in use as early as Shakspeare's time^ because he 
never used it^ and he had every use for the fami- 
liar words of his native tongue." 

'^ It cannot be so" said Campbell, supported 
in his opinion by the rest of the company. 

" You are all wrong/^ rejoined Schlegel» with 
renewed confidence; '*! am a foreigner, and 
much more likely to have noticed such niceties in 
the language than you are, who are fellow natives 
with the poet.-' 

Campbell still insisted upon his opinion being 
correct, others offered the' never-failing resource 
of their countrymen in such dilemmas, to settle 
the question, right or wrong, by a bet. Schlegel 
took it up, offering to wager a breakfast at Brunet's 
hotel, where he was staying, that he was correct, 
and his offer was accepted. 

It is needless to say, this distinguished critic 
was right, and all the rest of the party wrong. 
Neither " hurrah" nor " huzza" occur in Shak- 
speare ; tolerable evidence the words came in after 
the era of Elizabeth. 

Schlegel was grievously disappointed upon this 
journey to England, in the reception he met with 
on the part of the East India Company. His 
object was to obtain its patronage towards the 
publication of some valuable Sanscrit translations, 
very important as a key to Sanscrit literature, but 

p 2 



212 LITEBA&T BEMINISCSNCES AND 

expensive to print. The Anglo-Indian satraps 
offered to subscribe for twelve copies ! This was 
great patronage in the India House thirty years 
ago^ on the part of those who judge of heaven 
and earth, the thrones and rights of princes, and 
of humanity, by pounds, shillings, and pence. 
Schlegel was told that he mistook many munificent 
acts of the different Governors-general of India 
for those of the party called ** John Company,?* 
and he was comforted by my relating to him the 
circumstance of Warren Hastings having sent 
home to the East India directors an inestimable 
present, the produce of his plunder, of two hun- 
dred golden Darii. These they so little estimated 
at their value, as to transfer them to the melting- 
pot. Schlegel laughed heartily, and said, | 

" He should return with an altered idea of the 
honourable directors." 

** But remember,'* said Campbell, ** this occur- 
red forty or fifty years ago! They are wiser 
now V 

" Yes,** said one of the party, " because it is 
known the coins would now be worth more than 
the gold if put up for sale.** 

Schlegel was a most instructive and entertaining 
companion upon literary topics, of which the ex- 
tent of his knowledge and his accuracy were 
surprising, and yet he showed nothing of the 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 213 

pedaat, but was in society much of the man of the 
world. Yet there was conceit, a little self-con- 
sequence^ a taint of vanity, about Madame de 
Stael's idol. He was given to talk at times too 
much, for one of his superior mind, of German 
princes and people of rank. The Duke of Saxe 
Weimar, who, it is true, merited high laudation, 
was always on his lips when he spoke of society 
at home. In fact, he made too many observations 
about this and that high, well-born person in 
Germany, whose observations, when retailed, 
would not have been chronicled from middle life, 
having no more than the common aristocratic 
morgue to recommend them, however personally 
kind, amiable, and sleek might be the 

Lord of fat E'sham or of Lincoln Fen. 

Campbell was puzzled during his editorship by 
an anonymous contributor, who continued to send 
papers for several years, the subjects being gene- 
rally light and agreeably treated. The first was 
entitled *'Le Cavalier Seul," the second upon 
^^ Epicurism." Remittances were sent to an 
address on the Surrey side of the Thames, in the 
Borough. The incognito was maintained to the 
last, and during the correspondence, the unknown 
went by the cognomen of ** Our friend over the 
water." The hand-writing was clear, large, less 



214 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

in size than that of Hazlitt, but somewhat in the 
same style. 

Many were the conjectores who ''the Mend 
over the water** conld be. The part of Snrrey 
so near the Thames gave in those days the idea of 
a cockney Boeotia. No signature was at first 
adopted to the articles, bnt after a time they 
were subscribed W. E. " Who can he be ? some 
one in the King's Bench, or the Roles, from the 
locality whence the articles come; perhaps an 
individnal resident in Snrrey or Kent, who gives 
a Borough address because he is far from town, 
merely out of convenience.** These queries of 
the curious were answered by observing that the 
party need not in that case conceal his name, nor 
require the remittances for his articles to be en- 
closed to another person. At length it was as- 
sumed, through a suspicious incident, that these 
last were the production of a learned, ingenious, 
liberal-minded scholar and gentleman, whose seat 
in Buckinghamshire, connected with a name re- 
vered in history, was that from whence the " dis- 
tant spires and antique towers** of Eton were 
once so exciting to the genius of Gray.^ 

* It is not less extraofdiiiaij than trae, tiist the papczs 
here elhided to were written by a lady, who still kept her 
incognito, bat related the dreomstanoe, yean aftenraids, 
by letter to the present writer. 



* MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 215 

It was singular, that during ten years the ma- 
gazine was under Campbeirs editorship, the uni- 
versities never supplied, from the great numbers 
that must have lived within their precincts, one 
single contributor worthy of notice ; a proof that 
the study of two dead languages, and hearing a 
few college lectures, did little for a writer until 
he had mingled with the world and studied men 
as well as books. 

There was a clergyman in Devonshire, who 
contributed some very superior poetry to the 
early numbers. Few and far between, as all lite- 
rary persons in town well know, are contributions 
of the slightest ^alue received from the country. 
The poetry alluded to was beautiful ; the writer 
was the Rev. Mr. Johns. One day that I had 
gone to take coffee with Campbell, Mrs. Campbell 
put into my hand a letter which her husband had 
that day received, and bade her keep for me, as it 
belonged to our joint labours. Handing it over, 
she remarked what a neat hand it was, and that it 
was poetry. " Read the verses," said Campbell, 
** let us hear what they are about." I read on 
until a stanza occurred, in which, after the allusion 
to a storm, the returned tranquillity of the ocean ' 
was beautifully described. 

'• Beautiful," said the poet, " beautiful, indeed ! 
Read it again — that is poetry !" He would hear 



216 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

no more^ though other stanzas followed. It was 
as if he feared they would obliterate the effect of 
the passage which so struck his fancy. He then 
read the stanza twice aloud, and repeated the 
two last lines twice or thrice, getting the stanza 
in a minute or two by heart. " That is fine, in- 
deed ; we won't mind the rest. That is enough 
— I have not heard such lines for a long time. 

As though it ne'er had man beguiled, 
Or never would beguile him more. 

r 

Can anything be more faultlessly descriptive of 
such a calm V^ said Campbell, turning to his wife, 
who, though proud of her husband's fame, I never 
heard express any literary opinion, nor do I think 
she pretended to any judgment on such subjects. 
She thought the verses her husband's affair, and 
that to be one of the best, kindest, and most con- 
siderate of wives, with as few foibles as any of 
her sex, for she had some, was the due limit of her 
province. 

The stanzas were called ** The Maid of Ork- 
ney." Campbell was in general reserved in his 
opinions, and sparing in his praises in such cases, 
even when approving. Thus, of Byron's poetry 
he said, " It is great — great — it makes him truly 
great ; he has not so much greatness in himself." 
It struck me at the time, that the two lines bear a 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 217 

very close resemblance to that tranquil^ faultless 
beauty which Campbell succeeded in realising in 
his " Gertrude," and that an involuntary consci- 
ousness of this was the ground of his high admi- 
ration of them. 

Thus making allusion to poetry^ Sotheby, in his 
translation of the ** Danaae of Simonides," gave the 
work the best translation of this beautiful frag- 
ment ever made into English. Among the poetry, 
too, were Campbell's own charming " Lines to the 
Kainbow," which rank among his best things^ as 
his attempt at humour in the " Friars of Dijon" 
must rank as one of his worst. It was in vain he 
attempted light or humorous articles, and not the 
less singular that the manner of his telling a light 
story was so good. A letter, entitled ** Reflec- 
tions on a Plum Pudding,** published anony- 
mously, was Campbell's own, another proof of his 
want of talent for that kind of literature. There 
was no point in the article, unless it lay in the 
joke that a cat of praiseworthy *^ humour^^ was 
called " laudable pus/* borrowing a term from the 
surgery. ''The Lover to his Mistress," the 
•'Maid's Remonstrance," "Roland,** and "Ab- 
sence," were not up to par. In the " Lines of the 
Lover," there occurs the pleasing simile of the 
"waves of time washing away the impressions of 
memory." The opera in which the " Maid's Re- 



218 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

monstrance'' was to appear he began and aban- 
doned. It must be recollected that no man of 
genius can ensure equality of merit in his works. 
Where a writer has accustomed the world to a 
high tone in one or two of his earlier productions, 
those which, but for their predecessors, would 
have excited admiration, are deemed unworthy of 
the author's name* Moreover, genius waits not 
for maturity in age, though in many cases it may 
have appeared late. The world is a harsh task- 
master, far worse than an Egyptian Pharaoh who 
demands bricks without straw. It expects a 
writer to continue publishing for its own amuse- 
ment, in an ascending scale of excellence to the 
last, if the brain destroy itself by thought. It 
has no sensibility to the fact that it is generally 
given to the labour of a life to produce only one 
transcendent and enduring work. It imagines 
that the brighter coruscations of that extraordinary 
gift are at the command of him from whom they 
emanate, if he would but influence or invoke 
them. Thus, as it is, even that which is con- 
nected with the intellectual, is ever misjudged by 
vulgar opinion. It may be matter of doubt, whe- 
ther beyond a minute fraction of discriminating 
admiration for the works of genius, the praise gene- 
rally expressed be not of the nature of a contagion 
propagated insensibly and without a knowledge of 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 219 

the true merit of what is said to be so admirable^ 
and entirely destitute of a real discriminative 
feeling both for its beauties and defects. 

The first year of the publication being com- 
pleted, Campbell seemed at a loss what he should 
say to the public in a preface. He began by an 
indirect excuse for the avoidance of a stronger 
expression of political opinion in the work^ evi- 
dently from the apprehension that the friends of 
the political party to which he belonged required 
something of the kind to account for the omis- 
sion. It happened opportunely that Mr. Everitt, 
of the United States of America, had made some 
remarks upon an article inserted in the second 
number of the magazine, '' On the complaints in 
America against the British Press/' written by 
Mr. W, H. Curran. This supplied matter for the 
larger part. The poet had no idea of looking 
over the published numbers for 'the preceding 
twelvemonth, summing up at the year's end the 
merits and deficiencies of the past, as it would 
have occurred to one accustomed to similar publi- 
cations to do, promising improvements in future, 
and palliating faults. He made the preface an 
answer to Everitt, and stated that ^* he inserted 
the article without reflection." This he did as the 
shortest mode of getting rid of the matter, dread- 
ing f^r more than the inference that would be- 



220 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

drawn from the avowal against himself, the trouble 
it would cost him to vindicate the friend who had 
put the article into his hand. This, if he had 
really glanced at, he had done in a fit of ab- 
straction, for it was not probable, just commencing 
the work, which he thought such a task, he would 
have omitted to look it over. He pleaded his own 
oversight, or want of reflection, and then began 
to neutralize the effect of what had appeared ten 
months before, and was now nearly forgotten. A 
very injudicious course, pursued upon the mo- 
mentary impulse, and not likely to invalidate 
reasoning on the whole not unprovoked nor un- 
just. Such was the poet's mode of proceeding. 
He had no tact, which was almost a virtue in the 
position in which he then stood, or, at least, a 
most important qualification. The preface was 
impolitic, too. Campbell had little foresight in 
the matter : because it fixed the editor to certain 
points difficult to be observed among a great 
number of contributors for a series of years. This 
was shown afterwards, in the fact of a letter re- 
ceived from America, in consequence of some re- 
marks in the *' New Monthly," by a British officer, 
upon our campaigns there. The following sets 
this in a clear, light. The preface was thrown in 
the poet's teeth — a preface written to temporize 
and avoid that discussion which it was most likely 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS GAMFBBLL. ,221 

to produce, that, too, which the poet dreaded of 
all things. " Although I do not consider the en- 
closed reply to certain letters published in the last 
number, on the ' Canadian Campaign/ as full and 
as indignant as it ought to be, yet as the only an- 
swer to the libellous assertions, I send it you. I 
feel as an American in relation to the conduct as- 
cribed to the people of Kentucky in those letters ; 
and, although I have never been in that StaCte, I 
have a distinct recollection of the indignation ex- 
pressed by all, when the reports of the barbarities 
inflicted upon our unfortunate but brave troops 
reached us. I will add, that I was surprized to 
see in a publication under your charge, the inser- 
tion of charges so directly in opposition to the 
sentiments expressed in the preface to your first 
volume." This letter came from a Pennsylvanian, 
and the poet could not make any other reply than 
the acknowledgment of its receipt. In answering 
Everitt, he might, a few months after the maga- 
zine began, have pleaded "want of reflection'* 
with more justice to the fact; but for the first or 
second month, while it was new to him, he was 
anxious and sensitive overmuch about it, and cer- 
tainly did not omit to look at an article placed in 
his own hands by a particular friend. 

The case of the unfortunate Queen Caroline 
happened about the time of the commencement 



222 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

of the publication. He held the same opinion as 
everybody else who attended to the evidence 
and had travelled in foreign countries^ that no 
guilt was proved against her majesty. She might 
be guilty^ but the evidence established scarcely a 
suspicion to those who knew foreign manners and 
habits^ which very few in England at that time 
did ; the crown lawyers showed themselves pal- 
pable blockheads by letting this ignorance of 
theirs be seen. The conduct of the king made 
Campbell indignant^ particularly as if the queen's 
guilt were proved, his manifold and notorious 
habits of profligacy would prevent him obtaining 
a divorce. But these sentiments Campbell con- 
fined to the circle of his firiends. He had 
evidently no wish to offend openly the ruling 
powers. " Don't place the magazine in jeopardy/' 
he said to me, " by entering into the merits of the 
case^ it is better to pass it by^ with an outline of 
the facts. We must not go head and ears into 
the conduct of the authorities^ even about the 
queen's funeral^ disgraceful as the ministers have 
shown themselves. We cannot^ as you know, 
make it a political work, and it is useless to go 
only a part of the way towards it. The turn of 
events is already decided." 

During the next year of the poet's editorship 
fresh contributions from new writers filled its 




MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBKLL. 223 

pages. Among those who were thus numbered^ 
was Richard Shiel, whose writings^ as various as 
they were forcible and eloquent, always arrayed 
on the side of those principles of which the time 
elapsed since has confirmed the solidity, were 
calculated to attract attention. One of ShiePs 
papers was an account of the celebrated Tal- 
ma, whose character he sketched with great 
discrimination and accuracy of portraiture. Of 
his numerous contributions, many were sketches 
of Irish character, most of the living originals of 
which are now no more. These were recognised 
at once, and caused' a sensation among those who 
knew them by their verity, and among those who 
had no personal knowledge of them by strength 
of outline and the peculiarly rich tone of their 
colouring. There was scarcely a trait of the in- 
dividual described that was not elaborated, hardly 
a forensic trick or habitual peculiarity that was 
not faithfully conveyed in these portraits, and fre- 
quently a sentence ironically worded carried to 
those who alone could understand it^ a meaning 
which, if it did not act as a cure, at least ad- 
ministered a corrective to some prominent failing. 
Nor were politics forgotten. Irishmen, it is a 
virtue that must be conceded by the most nig- 
gardly spirit that has exhibited its animosity 
towards them, never rend asunder the tie of pa- 



224 LITERARY REMINISCENCKS AND 

triotic affection. Shiel remembered its claims^ and 
enforced them^ in times far different from the 
present, when hope was well nigh hopeless. In 
this he was seconded by a countryman, whose 
family name has long told wherever the voice of 
patriotism has been heard, eloquence admired, or 
flashes of unequalled wit either excited pleasure 
or stung delinquency to the quick, William 
Henry Curran, who died in 1857.* His powerful 
and graphic pen was as twin brother to that of 
Shiel. It is scarcely possible to look back without 
a feeling of more than melancholy upon the meet- 
ings that took place about this period between the 
poet and two or three friends, of whom Curran, 
when in London, was certain to be one. The 

* With a letter in February, 1857, ended a friendly in- 
tercourse of thirty-four years between W. H. Curran and 
the present writer. In the character of the writing there 
was that unsteadiness which marks debility. A few 
months more, and he ceased to exist. He inherited, not 
the wit, but many more than the yirtues of his eloquent 
and celebrated father, and lived and died more honoured 
by the good. His talents were of the highest order, and 
his disposition peculiarly amiable. Between 1820 and 
1830, on a fine day, we used sometimes to walk to Chalk 
Farm, then a good house of entertainment, and take a 
steak and glass of wine, and much of the oonyersation on 
those occasions is still fresh in the writer's memory. In his 
last communication he stated how well he remembered 
them. 



MEMOIRS O? THOMAS CAMPBELL. 225 

poet, the liyeliest of the party, always unreserved 
among friends, related anecdotes or discussed 
some topic of literary interest, and seemed to 
forget there was any world beyond the walls of 
the apartment in which he happened to be placed. 
All this was before the death of his wife. It was 
when in the prime of existence and fame that 
Campbell thus comported himself, the time in life 
that happens but once with all, when the cares of 
existence seem to pause a moment from their 
labours at human disquietude. Before, too, in 
consequence of that event, he vainly made two or 
three years of effort to continue something of the 
same kind of life he had before done, until the 
void so wide between himself and comfort, cast 
him out upon the world till his decease, to live as 
irregularly as if he had never known the enjoy- 
ment of a domestic hearth. 
The song, beginning, 

*' Men of England who inherit 
Eights that cost your sires their blood !" 

will exemplify the mode in which the poet pro- 
ceeded with his later compositions. He had been 
quite taken up with some new subject of research, 
having promised poetry for the magazine, and not 
commenced until the " eleventh hour.'* In order 
to write with more facility, and be away from im* 

VOL. I. Q 



226 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

mediate interruption^ he went down to his house 
at Sydenham^ leaving a message that the verses 
should be ready if I would come down and dine 
there the next day but one. Experience whispered 
that to secure the verses in time for the publica- 
tion it was necessary to go. I started for Dulwich^ 
intending to walk from thence^ and did not get to 
the house until the dinner hour had nearly arrived. 
I met the poet at the door. 

'' Have you had no note from me putting off the 
verses until to-morrow ?" 

" None." 

*' I have written you ; but no matter. How did 
you arrive so late ?" 

I explained every things and expressed a hope 
that my delay had insured the perfect completion 
of the verses. 

'^ They are not quite completed,'* said Camp- 
bell, '^ I am finishing the last stanza; but the 
dinner is ready, I will complete them after- 
wards." 

" No, no, before dinner, if you please." 

" My good friend, the dinner is ready." 

" Then I won't eat a particle until I have the 
verses — that is positive." 

" You do not mean it ? 

" I do indeed; I fear we shall be late as it is." 

Away walked Campbell to his study, and in less 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 227 

than a quarter of an hour returned with the 
spirited song, saying he had been puzzled all day 
about the last line of the last stanza, and thought 
it was better as he gave it, with the conclusion 
that it was the result of the first intention, rather 
than of any of seyeral alteration^ which he had 
previously tried. 

" Now/' said he, '' I will read them." 
He read them accordingly with effect, and then 
gaye them to me. When I had them in my pocket 
we sat down to dinner. 

We chatted over the wine until the moon was 
high in the heaven, talking of Sydenham, the 
occasional social meeting of choice spirksf there, 
the freaks of Hook, and the good sayings of the 
''Authors of the Rejected Addresses." There 
was no conveyance back to town* Campbell 
wished me to remain the night, but I declined his 
invitation, set off late, and walked on towards the 
reservoir nearly in front of his house. Supposing 
I did not see it, he called out to me from his door 
to take care of my footsteps. It was the last 
time I ever heard the poet's voice from the resi- 
dence which to himself had been the source of so 
many pleasing recollections. I walked to town, 
and arrived on a brilliant summer morning, in 
the solitude of the metropolitan streets, with the 
verses safe in my possession. 

Q 2 



228 LITERABT REMINISCENCES AND 

On arriTing I found the following note at mj 
house^ evidently written to gain another day : 

'^ To-morrow you shall have the verses, some 
ten stanzas of four lines." 

The song comprised seven stanzas of four lines. 
I am persuaded that the poet had worked hard 
to finish them to his own mind in the time. 
He did not always change his language for the 
better. Thus in the lines now referred to, he 
wrote, and the fourth stanza was printed as 
follows, from the copy at Sydenham : 

" What are mQiitiineiitB of bravery 
Where no public virtue blooms P 
What avail in lands of slavery, 
Trophied temples, arches, tombs P" 

This stanza he altered in his collected poems 
thus : 

" What are monuments of bravery 
Where no public virtues bloom P 
What avail in lands of slavery, 
Trophied temples, arch and tomb P" 

Had " temples" been singular in place of plural 
the reading might have been better for the sake 
of having " public virtue '* plural, but it is hard 
to discover the diflference between "no public 
virtue," that is, "no one public virtue," and 
'* no public virtues," while the last line gives the 



■?{9aaB^M 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 229 

idea of many temples^ but only a single arch and 
tomb. In all events the alteration^ for the sake 
of the conjunction '* and/' weakens the energy of 
the verse. 

In his fine stanzas to Kemble he altered the 
line 

'< That where supernal light is given," 
to 



« 



That when supernal light is giyen/' 



»» 



an improvement. 

In the ''Lines on receiving a seal with the 
Campbell crest from K. M. before her Marriage, 
the three first stanzas were printed, 

*' This wax returns not back more fair 
An image of the gift you send. 
Than graved in memory's thoughts I bear 
Your well-defined worth, my friend. 

** We are not friends of yesterday, 

I think you know me not a little, 
But poets' hearts are apt, they say, 
To be impressible and brittle. 

** Well, should fair faith my heart condemn 
To lose your virtues' fair impress. 
Your type is still the sealing gem. 
And mine the waxen brittleness.*' 

This was altered as follows : 



230 LITXRART REMINISCENCES AND 

" The wax tetoms not back more lair 
The impresrion of the gift yoa send. 
Than ttamf^d vpon my thoughts I bear 
The image of your worth my friend. 

'^ We are not friends of yesterday, 
Bui poeU^ fancies are a Utile 
Disposed to heat and cool {they se^). 
By turns impressible and brittle, 

** Well, shonld its frailty e*er condemn 
My heart to prize or please you less^ 
Your tjrpe is still the leading gem. 
And mine the waxen brittleness/' 

In regard to the lines in the eighth stanza, in 
which the name " Maccallin More " had been 
written^ Campbell, being absent from town, asked 
me to revise the proof during his absence, which 
I told him I would do. It was remarkable, as 
showing upon what he was doubtful, and how 
little attention he paid to some points, as when 
he made tropical productions grow on the shores 
of the Susquehanna in his '* Gertrude." He 
left the proof, and a note, which closed as 
follows : 

'' I am not sure about the orthography ot 
' Maccallin More,' but, by looking at Scott's 
ballad, called * Lord Boland,' it will be found, I 
dare say, exactly spelt. My own idea is, that it 
should be ' Maccallin '—I don't know !*' 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 231 

I found he was in error^ and that the proper 
way of spelling the name was as it now stands 
in his works^ ^' MacaUlan Mor^'' and so I caused 
it to be printed. 

His opinion of Scott was, as with everybody 
besides, high indeed, although they differed 
greatly in politics. It was singular that both 
should have been, as much perhaps by hereditary 
feelings as natural inclination, politically opposed 
to each other. Scott was said to haye imbibed 
his Jacobitish tendencies &om haying spent some 
time in his boyhood with the Stewarts of Appin, 
of whom his father was the confidential friend. 
The CampbeUs were, on the other hand, knit to the 
Argyle standard in political opinion, and opposed 
to the Jacpbites, or the section of the Tories that 
were deyoted to the Stuarts, so denominated in 
opposition to the " revolution Tories," who sup- 
ported William III. Those who are most gifted 
with talent are not always above the predilections 
of early life, and both Scott and Campbell were 
thus influenced. Sensible of this, and of his 
own predisposition, CampbeU never expressed 
towards Scott any feeling but that of kindness 
and admiration, except upon one occasion, at a 
time when both were in the full flush of public 
regard. This feeling on the part of Campbell 
might have been fully justifiable by the treatment 



232 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

the bold, honest, uncompromising Covenanters 
received at the hands of the great novelist. Hid 
mention of the Dukes of Argyle, towards whom, 
save on one occasion, Scott showed he had no 
friendly feeling, was. not like himself, nor con- 
sistent with fact. It happened, in one case, that 
the only nobleman of that house he had spared 
and admitted to possess some amiable qualities, 
was the grandfather of his friend the Duke of 
Buccleugh. This being observed^ by Campbell, 
he passed it over without any remark ; he pro- 
bably thought every writer of fiction had a justi- 
fiable latitude to' indulge his predilections. But 
when George IV. visited Scotland, Scott came to 
facts. He wrote two songs, before the king's 
arrival, to an old Scotch air, " Carle, now the 
King's come,'^ into which he introduced all the 
Scotch nobles except the Duke of Argyle. The 
thing was so palpable, that Scott could not avoid 
hearing of it, and then made an excuse for the 
omission by stating that he had heard the Duke 
of Argyle was not coming to Edinburgh. This 
did not mend the matter, because other noblemen 
had. not* arrived when the songs were written, 
and yet were introduced ; among the absentees 
being the recent Duke of Hamilton. Such 
was the mode in which the affair was told to 
Campbell. 



MBMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 233 

At these things the poet expressed his regret. 
Afterwards, when he heard that the king had 
shown peculiar attention to the Duke of Argyle, 
and that Scott was^ then observed to take marked 
notice of the duke also^ and that it had been alto^ 
gether a subject of notice in Scotland, he again 
spoke of the pity it was that Scott should have 
shown such a feeling. " Let Scott have a poli- 
tical bias,'' said Campbell, *' we all have it ; but 
why carry the enmity towards a whole race ? If 
an old Duke of Argyle were opposed to the Jaco- 
bites, why retort the feeling upon the present 
generation ? When the Stuarts are extinct, why 
should their friends, on the strength of tradition, 
be inimical to the descendants of their opponents, 
who are guiltless of treason against those whose 
memory is only honoured upon the faith of others. 
Scotland owed a debt of gratitude to the Argyle 
family, and to the Covenanters too, worth all the 
Stuarts, for the freedom they were the means of 
working out by their uncompromising resistance 
to tyranny. However, Scott is too good and 
great a man to differ with on such a topic. His- 
tory tells the truth, and every day that passes, 
proclaims, through the progress of knowledge, 
that the cause of the Stuarts gets weaker, and 
their name more detestable as we advance in poli- 
tical freedom. 



234 UTAKAmT mmiKisGiBcis Ajn> 



It WM leaaiked to Urn diaft Scott caDcd d^ 
chief of die CamphcOs " McCnDm Motc/* in 
place of ^ Mac MacnDm Mor/* or 'die «m cf 
^UkxAnt;' in die place of ''die «m of Coiiii,'' 
wbich was not acddentaL In " Wavcdey^ die 
name was used oonecdf 9 at vdl at in die '^ I^dy 
rfdielake.'' ''Xoautter, let Scott call virtait 
lie fikes,** aid CanpbeD, '^ oaty let Ub not paint 
]iirt)osical&cl8paitiaIlj;lHit,incxGiiaBgefin tlie 
pkaiuic his wudcEfid iangination gives to die 
woddylet hw not TisitthesinBof diefidicnnpon 
the children** 



UEHOIRS OF TBOtfAS CAHPBXIjL. 235 




\ 

CHAPTER VIIL ' 



lUnesB of the Poet's boq.— Contributors to the Ma^^asine, 
Ghraham and Hazlitt. — American Literature. — Compli- 
ment to Sogers. — Visit to Cheltenham. — Letters res- 
pecting *' Theodoric." — Criticism on Medwin's book 
about Byron. 

|H£ poet had placed his surTiying offspring, 
as already stated^ at the university of Bonn, 
under a tutor. The attachment of the 
parents to their only son was strongs and to be 
nearer, they removed him to Amiens. Calling at 
the poet's one morning, I found he was out, and 
Mrs. Campbell in considerable agitation. On 
expressing a hope that there was nothing of mo- 
ment the matter, she informed me, in a manner 
exhibiting sufficiently her maternal fears, that 
there was reason to believe Thomas had run away 
from his tutor — ^that he was then in prison at Bou- 
logne ; and she expressed much apprehension upon 



2S6 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

his account, adding that her husband was gone 
to the French ambassador to endeavour to obtain 
his release. The ambassador wrote over accord- 
ingly. She knew nothing more than that it was 
supposed he had been arrested because he had no 
passport in his possession. But what business 
could he have at Boulogne ? This proved to be the 
fact; the youth, having singularly enough reached 
Boulogne without the instrument of inquisitorial 
despotism, and from thence could proceed no fur- 
ther. 

Returning home, I found the poet at my own 
door. He had called to tell me of what had oc- 
curred, and related the circumstances with a heavy 
heart. It appeared that he had not then commu- 
nicated the entire affair to his wife; he feared 
there was much more trouble in store for them 
than he had yet ventured to tell her of, as he 
found that Thomas had exhibited symptoms of a 
wandering mind, the severest of calamities. He 
had eloped from his instructor, and had contrived, 
no one knew how, to travel from Amiens as far as 
the coast without a passport. There he had been 
lodged in prison, from which the French ambassa- 
dor, on hearing a statement of the case, had just 
written over to procure his release. But this was 
of little consequence compared to further intelli- 
gence conveyed in a letter from Amiens, stating 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 237 

too, that his son had exhibited symptoms of 
mental alienation. Particular symptoms had been 
remarked for some time previously, and it would 
appear had rather shown themselves in petty 
eccentricities than in violent acts. At the time 
the teacher wrote^ the symptoms had become more 
decided. Young Campbell would sometimes take 
it into his head that persons on the other side of 
the street had insulted him, cross over> go up to 
those who had not even noticed him^ and demand 
why they conducted themselves so insultingly 
towards him^ and what they intended by it. The 
poet was much affected^ notwithstanding his efforts 
to suppress his emotions. ^ The youth^ soon set at 
liberty^ was received into his father's house. 
The anxious feeling in regard to the state of mind 
of a son respecting whom his parents had con- 
ceived brilliant hopes^ was naturally great. Their 
expectations had not been ill-founded; young 
Campbell possessed excellent natural abilities^ his 
disposition was good, his conversation^ when he felt 
inclined to be communicative^ was superior to that 
of most youths of his own years. He was about 
eighteen^ a period at which the ^character of the 
constitution generally undergoes some change, and 
from this circumstance hopes were indulged that 
with the development of manhood the change might 
be such as was desired^ but their hopes were des- 



238 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

* 

tined to disappointment. The trial was the more 
severe to the father^ as he kept his fears to him- 
self, and they preyed more acutely upon his mind. 
The effect was visible in the difficulty of fixing 
his attention to anything for a good while after- 
wards ; frequent complaints of indisposition ; the 
appearance of a mind continually pre-occupied ; 
in fact, an incapacity for his wonted literary 
duties to such an extent, that when I went to 
his house to consult him, I found the irksomeness 
of putting any question to him so great, I broke 
off from my purpose, and acted wholly upon my 
my own responsibility. This was the case for 
the space of two or three months after this painful 
event took place, before the poet could fall again 
into his customary course of action. 

With his sensitive temperament this trying 
state of things was to be expected. Death had 
deprived him of one child, and the calamity fallen 
upon the other was even more weighty. He 
kept his son in town, the fondness of both his 
parents rendering such a course of things inevi* 
table. Young Campbell behaved with much 
propriety in society, so that in general, little or 
nothing of his disorder was visible to strangers. 
He read the newspapers, commented with some 
judgment upon the political events of the day, 
and at his father's table it would be difficult to 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 239 

observe traces of mental alienation. His com* 
plaint exhibited no increase, but seemed to settle 
down into a mild species of aberration, visible only 
npon exciting causes. 

The knowledge of a slight surveillance being 
exercised over him, was a restraint sufficient to 
render him in every respect an inofTensive inmate 
of the parental dwelling. That of his father was 
sufficient when present, but when absent, the son 
would at times break out on indulging in a little 
wine or porter, until his mother became terrified. 
Being the only fnend Uving near, I was repeat- 
edly sent for by Mrs. Campbell, in her husband's 
absence, upon these outbreaks. I found young 
Campbell easy enough to manage, but in a state in 
which some interference became necessary. His 
mother would entreat me, matters being restored 
to their usual course the next day, not to tell the 
poet of what had occurred, for it would unhinge 
him and shake his nerves. I forbear to state mi- 
nutiae. A careful regimen, and a slight watch- 
fdlness only, were all necessary for governing 
young Campbell ; but these required to be unre- 
laxing. His mother more than once said to me on 
calling, '^ Thomas has been looking at his father 
so fixedly that he cannot bear it ; he is gone out." 
The poet ims^ined that his son felt at such mo- 
ments a dislike of paternal authority, and, in con- 



240 LITERART REMINISCENCES AND 

sequence^ a feeling towards himself^ of which he 
could not bear the snpposition. His son's gazing 
upon him probably meant nothing. A kinder 
disposition than that young Campbell exhibited 
could scarcely be found ; but it was enough for 
the poet to fancy what might not haye had a 
foundation in reality. The operation upon his 
sensibility was precisely the same. 

Campbell^ upon whose mind this affecting in- 
cident had thus cast a gloom, continually lamented 
that he could do nothing with his son in such a 
state. ^' I can never do any thing with him — 
what can I make of him? Education carried 
further must be hopeless; he is getting old 
enough to be active about something ; must he 
ever be a blank ?'' He never spoke of the afflic- 
tion as one touching himself; he never alluded 
to his own torn feelings, for this was his way ; these 
were his own concerns alone. The burden was 
the impoifeibility of Thomas ever being anything 
in the world. He considered, ostensibly at least, 
the disadvantage to the youth far more than his 
own acute mental suffering. " I can never make 
anything of Thomas, my friend," he used to say, 
with acute feeling, to me. The mild character of 
the disorder, and the natural bearing of the son in 
general, rendered the case more painful than if 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 241 

the complaint had been stronger and deeper 
marked to common observers. 

I have gone more at length into this painful 

incident at its origin than I should have done^ 

but for events occurring since the poet^s decease^ 

among utter strangers of all relative to the case. 

An observation from a writer I have before 

quoted I can vouch is most just^ '^ that if there was 

one point in Campbell*s character more amiable 

than another^ it was his affection for his son." 

The remainder of this writer's remark is equaUy 

just, except as relates to the son's ** imbecility/' 

Young Campbell was never " imbecile,'* nor did 

his disorder increase from the first attack. He 

learned a good deal of the Spanish language at 

the house where he was afterwards placed. He 

never was under any other restraint after leaving 

the asylum of Dr. Finch, in Wiltshire, where he 

did not long remain, than that arising from the 

knowledge that he had a superior to whom he 

was responsible. He had miles of range over a 

pleasant country, and he availed himself of its 

advantages. I myself visited Dr. Allen at Ep- 

ping, where the youth was ultimately placed. 

There was more foundation for another part of 

the remark of the same writer, that it was a 

touching sight to see the poet's fine eyes watch 

his son, and at any stray remark he might make, 

VOL. I. R 



242 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

indicating intelligence, to see how his countenance 
brightened with delight. Campbell did look at 
his son with a parent's fondness ; he was pleased 
at the observations he made^ and he often made 
many and pertinent remarks^ all this consisting 
with the nature of his disorder. Campbell had 
410 hope of a change for the better, after the 
second or third year from the attack, when his 
son's constitution had become completely formed. 
The son inherited the disease from his mother's 
family. Had Mrs. Campbell survived^ it is 
probable he would have continued his position 
under the parental roof ; but the poet could not 
after that event be always at home. He found, 
too^ at last, that his efforts to continue his former 
domestic establishment, with no one at its head 
who knew his habits, was impracticable ; he made 
the attempt, and was not successful. 

Among the contributors to the Magazine about 
this time, was William Grenville Graham.* 
Campbell was much pleased with him, because 
he was a remarkably well-informed young man, 
had read much, and was of agreeable manners. 
His career was singular, a remarkable instance 
of a young man possessing excellent natural 
parts, good education, and much that was amiable 

* An American, whose painful history is given in my 
" Fifty Years' Eecollections." 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 248 

and prepossessing, with a headstrong, heedless 
temperament, that drew him from folly into vice, 
and ultimately, six or seven years after, into crime. 
CampbeU, who felt much interest in all about 
America, was anxious to become acquainted with 
the state of the coUeges there, and the mode 
adopted for the instruction of youth. All these 
queries his contributor was able to gratify to the 
fullest extent. I have no doubt this desire on 
the poet's part had a prospective reference to his 
plan for a London University, which he had pro- 
mulgated among his friends some time before, 
though he had not made it public. 

With the kindest feeling towards the Ame- 
ricans, Campbell thought it would be a long 
time before it would be possible for them to have 
a highly marked literature of their own, if they 
ever should possess one at all. He thought that 
this was a disadvantage arising out of the early 
literature of England belonging equaUy to 
America. Owing to the language being common 
to the two nations, the higher writers of the old 
country must necessarily be the models for the 
new; there would, in consequence, be nothing 
sufficiently marked in American writers, to 
whatever excellence they might attain, that would 
give them an original stamp and character un- 
connected with their fathers, and altogether a 

B 2 



244 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

novel creation. They mighty when the vast 
transatlantic continent became peofded^ in the 
course of time, and of that decadence which is 
the lot of all empires^ be the transmitters of the 
literature of England to unborn generations ; bat 
America would still be the only medium of the 
transmission of what had been common to both. 
America might shine beyond us in science. 

Hazlitt began with his " Table Talk," in a paper 
entitled " Going a Journey." He continued the 
series in succession for some months. These pa- 
pers came through the publisher. They were ex- 
cellent articles ; it was impossible to decline their 
insertion and act justly to the publication. Camp- 
bell's prejudices against this able writer were 
strong, and perhaps personal. While continuing 
his " Table Talk," he sent a paper, caUed « The 
Fight,'' being an account of the pugilistic contest 
between the Gas Man and the Game Chicken. 
There were considerable doubts about admitting 
such a paper. The subject was so thoroughly 
" blackguard," and it was giving currency to so 
disgraceful and demoralising a species of vulgar 
exhibition, that brands England, as the bull-fight 
does Spain, in the sight of civilised nations — an 
exhibition, too, that its advocates pretended kept 
up the national courage, while the real motive was 
the gain made of it, as of horse-racing, by gam- 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 245 

biers and thieves. I suggested that the paper^ 
disgraceful as its theme was^ afforded too true a 
picture of existing manners, and would^ in the 
course of things, soon become a mere record of 
our past barbarities. The poet, on conversing about 
it, felt that the omission might be charged to his 
personal dislike of the writer ; and it was agreed, 
the barbarism should appear in a publication very 
differently characterised in its other articles. 

If the poet had an antipathy to Hazlitt, it was 
not his common feeling towards men of genius. 
He had a high opinion of Sotheby, for example, 
38 a poet, in which there would not be many found 
to agree with him beyond the unquestionable ele- 
gance and classic correctness of that writer. 

He praised James Montgomery, of Sheffield, 
very highly; and I have heard him commend 
Bowles, though differing from him upon a well- 
known topic. An opinion of Rogers he once gave 
unexpectedly, I remember, not that his respect 
for the author of " Pleasures of Memory" de- 
manded such a manifestation, for his feeling to- 
wards that literary veteran was easily discoverable 
when his name chanced to become a subject of 
conversation. I had called at his house, and was 
sitting with Mrs. Campbell, who expected his 
return every moment, when he came in with his 
mind, evidently preoccupied with something he 



246 LITERABT KEMIN1SCENCS8 AND 

had seen or heard. He then said^ either that he 
had just seen Mr. Bogers, or had heard 6ome- 
thing about him, I forget which, and added^ *' He 
is a very extraordinary man. I firmly belieye he 
dislikes men when they become prosperous^ be- 
cause he feels he can no longer do them and his 
own heart good^ by any aid he can tender them.'* 
I could not help thinking at the time, how much 
higher this compliment was than Tolumes of di- 
luted praise upon paper. It was the highest 
character I ever heard the poet give any indivi- 
dual. At that time he was a reserved man in his 
opinions, and choice in his society ; very different, 
indeed, in both respects, from what he became 
during the last few years of his life. At this 
time,* too, he was sensitive about his own fiune, 
and was regardful of that of others in a high de- 
gree; of literary men and their works he was 
particularly reserved in giving his sentiments. 
Even about persons in general, not literary, he- 
was guarded in opinion, though in his later years 
he let out his antipathies in terms sometimes 
scarcely justifiable, in too many cases, with scanty 
means of forming a judgment. 

Visiting Cheltenham, some poetry came from 
Mrs. Hemans, in Wales. He wrote me as if all 
at once something new had struck him. My cus- 
tom had been to keep poetry on hand. Campbell 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 247 

saw everything in verse ; a rule scrupulously kept, 
when. he was within reach, for it was his staple. 
As time often pressed, he was not always to be 
found, and it was necessary to have a reserve. 
'* If you are not already pressed, I should like 
the Greek song to be inserted, and the others to 
be kept; for though Mrs. H. is a very pretty 
writer, we must not have too many pieces by the 
same hand, for fear of monotony." This was a 
sudden thought; neither before or after did he ever 
thus express himself about the making up of the 
publication, in which he took no part. The pieces 
were, *^ The Ancient Song of a Greek Exile,^* 
and " The Isle of Founts," both of which I 
thought it necessary to insert in the September 
number. 

Some time before, as Mrs. Hemans affixed only 
initial letters to her poems, they were copied and 
dishonestly given to different poems in other pub- 
lications, to impress the public with the idea that 
they were written by her. This dishonest prac- 
tice she herself wrote to request might be obvi- 
ated. 

I should be much obliged to you," she said, 

if you would have my name at fuU length pre- 
fixed to the titles of my pieces in the contents of 
the * New Monthly :' some one, for whose perpe- 
trations I do not at all wish to answer, having 



it 



248 LITBEART REMINISCENCES AND 

adopted the initials I have been in the habit of 
using, I mean to leave off that signatare in 
fotare." 

I found it necessary to conummicate with Camp- 
bell almost directly after this, in consequence of 
receiving a critdcism on Medwin's book about Lord' 
Byron, which had jnst then nude its appearance, 
for about Byron he feared the opinions of others 
might be taken for his own. I receired a com- 
munication &om him in return. The substance 
was, that he felt much annoyed at hemg obliged 
to mutilate the extract ; but that in good truth he 
could not help it, from being on snch terms of 
friendship with Lady Byron, that he could as soon 
offer her a direct personal indignity as sn^r the 
extract, from Lord Byron's strictures on her lady- 
ship's character, to pass in a work tinder bis 
superintendence. That it was impossible it could 
stand, and that it was the same with regard to the 
remarks of Byron on B/ogen. The matter in the 
pasaage about Lady ByroD had been already 
repeatedly before the world. His dislike was, 
that he should appear to give it circulation. 

This criticism of " Medwin" contained much 
]>ersonal matter, not by the reviewer, but in ex- 
tracts from the author, some of which I had cut 
out. I sent it to Campbell in type, and he sent it 
roe back more nntilated, on wJiich account I pre- 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 249 

served the identical copy as one of the mementoes 
of. our intercourse. The portions struck out had 
been before widely, circulated in other publications, 
and could have done no further injury^ had they 
been repeated in the Magazine. The omission 
of them was a proof of Campbell^s delicacy of 
mind towards his friends, although^ in his capacity 
as editor of the work, a di£ferent proceeding would 
have been excusable. In every other sense, it is 
clear, Campbell thought that he should not give 
currency even to well-known and well-grounded 
facts, if offensive to friends. At that time he 
little dreamed of the attack he was one day to 
make upon his old friend Moore, in connexion 
with the same subject. So little is it possible for 
the best to foresee the bias of their own minds in 
perspective, and so much better is it to act upon 
rule. The article which he volunteered in defence 
of Lady Byron ti^as prompted by his previous 
respect for that lady, and under no sudden start 
of fitfulness, upon the appearance of the work of 
Moore. However untrained in the list for such 
encounters, and, as some judged, however im- 
poUtic the encounter at all, since it is rare that 
the cause of a wife in conjugal differences can 
be successfully defended by the pen of the writer, 
there can be no doubt about the sincere zeal of 
the defence. The warn^th of the tone in which 



250 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

Campbell wrote^ arose from his natural tempera- 
ment. He was not adapted for a controversialist in 
the commonest literary warfare. He overlooked 
weak positions on his own side, for the purpose of 
defending those which were obviously strong. He 
had the chivalric ardour of the true knight, but 
no experience in strategy. He was by no means 
a skilful advocate, arguing, as he did, from the 
impulses of his nature, not always the most justi- 
fiable, and being the champion upon feeling, 
rather than upon the solid basis of demonstration. 
There was in the poet an absence of that cool<- 
ness of nature which prevents self-committal 
from excitement. Thus with Campbell, when 
he addressed an audience, he often lost the thread 
of his argument, and was sometimes brought to a 
complete stand-still through nervous emotion — 
and it was thus with him in controversy. 

In the notice of " Medwin's Recollections," 
to which allusion is now made, he altered the 
fourth line, which ran, that the minutest details 
about Lord Byron were sought afiter " by every 
thinking and feeling person,'' into ^'by every- 
body.'^ He marked for omission altogether 
the paragraph (see " Med win," p. 43) beginning, 
** A very full account,'^ and terminating " the 
MS." He did the same by a long extract from 
the forty-third to the sixty-third page of ^' Med- 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 251 

win," terminating with the words, *' I have the 
lines somewhere, and will show them to you," 
and keeping up the connexion of the sense by the 
introduction of the words, '^ His account of his 
situation immediately before leaving England is 
sufficiently melancholy." In page 816 of " Med- 
win," beginning, " But what has all this to do 
with Rogers ?" as far as to " my immortality," he 
marked out, and then added the note beginning, 
•' So thinks the writer of this article, &c.,'' as it 
stands.* 

Campbell wrote me from Cheltenham that the 
weather was remarkably fine, and if there was a 
promise of its continuance, he urged me to come 
down and rusticate there for a time. He had 
taken a pleasant lodging, and had a spare room. 
He had fixed no day for a temporary return to 
town, a thing which would only occupy him for a 
short time, and he would, in consequence, leave 
the proposition in referendum. He concluded 
by observing that he earnestly wished I was down 
with him, in order to ramble together over the 
" Malvern Hills." 

In alluding to my joining him, he said we must 
make no difference about the meum et tuum if I 
came down, upon any score of delicacy as to our 
expenses; that he should be delighted at the 

• New Montldy, Vol. ii. pp. 406 and 411. 



252 LITERARY R£MINISC£NCF.S AND 

prospect of our remaining there for a time; that 
he had a spare bed, a parlour quite large enough 
in which to eat a fowl and drink a bottle of 
sherry. He prayed to fortune that the weather 
might continue good, in order to have walks in the 
vicinity. The idea he had of coming up to town 
he had now abandoned, though he had before 
thought it imperatively necessary, returning to 
Cheltenham again, and that at first he feiu:^ he 
might not have been able to meet me there ; but 
things had since occurred that determined him to 
remain pretty far into November, and even over 
its close. He then requested I would say when 
he might expect tae. 

It is difficult, without these details, to give an 
idea of that kind of waywardness, or irresolution, 
or restlessness, whichever it was, that seemed a 
prominent trait in the poet*s character, and turned 
him aside from many things excellent, as far as 
design went. 

The poem of ** Theodoric'* was in the press. He 
had a sudden idea the waters would do him good. 
Yet at that very moment he was in the utmost 
anxiety about the appearance of his poem, which 
he expressed whenever he had an occasion to 
write to me. Any reflecting person, under such 
feverish circumstances, would have delayed his 
trip for a week; but that would have been too 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 253 

considerate a thing for one of his habits. He 
wrote up to town just after his arrival : — 

'* I have a kindness to request of you, which I 
have no doubt you will show, and I shall hope to 
have a proper opportunity of testifying my sense 
of it. It is to correct the punctuation, particu- 
larly of the sheets which follow * Theodoric' in 
my little forthcoming volume. May I ask you, 
also, to see that they go quickly to press, for I 
have not yet received a single sheet beyond' 
' Theodoric/ and if I go on in this way, I know 
not when I may get out. You will do me the 
greatest favour by accepting this trusteeship, and 
it will save Mr. Bentley waiting for my return- 
ing the proofs. I mean to. retain ^ Theodoric ' 
standing in types for a week or so longer. The 
poems of the other sheets may be compared with 
the poems printed in the * New Monthly,' and 
this you can do with more accuracy than I can 
myself. I should wish only to revise the sheets 
which contain anything printed from manuscript, 
such as the 'Verses on John Kemble/ 'Lines 
on a Seal,' and ' On the Princess Charlotte.' 

" This I am conscious is giving you a deal of 
trouble, which I have no right to request ; but I 
have no friend to whom I can make the applica- 
tion but yourself. 

" When you see B , which I suppose^ of 



254 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

course, will be soon, will you implore him to des- 
patch the other sheets besides 'Theodoric/ and that 
he shall have ' Theodoric ' within eight days. I 
ought to be out as early as possible in No- 
vember." 

Thus he had not been a day or two in Chelten- 
ham before he became over-anxious about what 
remaining a day or two more in London would 
have enabled him to arrange to his satisfaction, 
and then to have gone down with a light heart. 
How little he reflected in a common-sense way in 
the affair of the poem, and his valetudinarian 
visit, the sequel will show, and how he forgot all 
about the Cheltenham waters, and his own health. 

I went down by the night mail, having arranged 
that the proofs of " Theodoric " should follow me. 
The poet was lodged in a cottage called Alpha 
Cottage, Suffolk Parade. I found him in excel- 
lent spirits, and his health better than I had noticed 
it to be for some time before. He began, at once, 
to project various walks in the vicinity of the 
town, anticipating more enjoyment than it was 
probable we should encounter. Before I quitted 
town, Mrs. CampbeU had prepared me for disap- 
pointment in this respect, under the wide differ- 
ence between imagination and fact. I had read 
her husband's letter to myself immediately after I 
received it, calling in Upper Seymour Street for 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 255 

the purpose. When I had concluded^ she said, 
with her slight northern patois^ " Don't believe 
all that ; you will get him out one or twice ; he 
will be tired, and go no more. He does not 
mind fine prospects, if he is to walk any distance 
to obtain them. We were in Scotland once, at the 
Duke of Argyle's, and one of the Ladies Camp- 
bell was desirous of showing him a fine view from 
a good way up a steep hill. We set out on foot, 
and my husband had walked enough for his liking 
the day before. He went on grumbling softly to 
me all the way, to where we saw a very fine view 
indeed. He showed none of the admiration for 
it the Ladies expected, but whispered me, ' What 
the devil did they bring us all this way for !' 
He will quickly be tired of walking about the 
neighbourhood of Cheltenham." 

Breakfast was ready soon after my arrival, and 
the poet in excellent spirits. From the house 
there was a pleasant but partial peep at the Mal- 
vern Hills, that appeared deeply blue in the dis- 
tance. As air and exercise after a sleepless night 
are better than remaining heavy within doors, I 
proposed a walk. Campbell at once assented. I 
agreed to pilot him to Birdlip Hill, an old haunt 
of my own, firom whence there is one of the finest 
prospects imaginable. We set off accordingly. 
The day was clear and warm for the season. We 



256 IJTERART REMINISCENCES AND 

clambered to the summit^ which overlooked a vast 
extent of country of every description, cultivated 
and wild, coppice and waste. 

From a proud elevation the eye glanced over 
the rich vale of Gloucester. The deep blue hills 
of Malvern brought to recollection the south of 
Europe, from their intensity of colour. Some of 
the hills of Wales were visible in the distant 
border of the picture. The effect of the whole 
was beautiful, if not grand. 

'^ Those hills axe like the hills of Italy in pic- 
tures/' said Campbell.* " I have never seen any in 
England so rich ; we seldom see the atmosphere 
so clear ; it makes my heart leap as it did when 
I was a boy in the Highlands." 

^' But you have seldom such a climate there,'' 
I remarked ; *' you axe all mist.'* 

**Yes, there is enough of that to make us 
value the fine days we have the more ; our noble 
mountains are too often like St. FauFs on a smoky 
day, but our Highland people do not love them 
the less.'* 

" I think Burns made less of the Scotch 
mountains than might be expected; he scarcely 
touches upon them in all his beautiful poetry, 
so pestering to an Englishman with his local 
words.'* 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS C^MPBKLL. 257 

'' But he had noticed min^/' said the poet, '^ in 
a farourite song — mine by the Clyde — 

' Yon wild mossy mountains so lofty and wide, 
That nurse in their bosom the youth of the Clyde.' 

These are mjf mountains ; to me the most impres- 
sive I ever saw." 

*' When you can see them for the mist," I ob- 
served, jokingly. 

*' Yes/' said Campbell, " when the ' Scotch ' 
mists, as you call them in England, permit a 
view ; but that characteristic ooly endears their 
recollection, just as the mistiness of memory en- 
hances our regard for by-gone things — ^you have 
not been in Scotland ?'' 

I replied in the negative^ that I had ever gone 
south, like his countrymen^ whom people joked 
with a prejudice against travelling northwards, to 
which the poet replied^ " We will go together 
some day^ and I will show you the Clyde and my 
own mountains." I replied I should be most 
happy ; but that if we were both out of London, 
and so far away together, the world might miss 
our appearance for a month. 

" True," said Campbell, '^ the devil take the 
periodical ; I should like such an excursion. I 
would show you all my boyish scenes in Glasgow 
— then we should visit Edinburgh and Professor 

VOL. I. s 



258 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

Wilson ; but no, we must not be away together ; 
I should like to see Mr. Colburn's consternation 
at our absence !" 

Campbell was delighted, and evidently drank 
rich draughts of pleasure from the unexpected 
view. He remarked how much the diversity 
atld irregularity of the scenery contributed to its 
attraction. Were the earth all as smooth as a 
bowling-green, how vapid would it be in land- 
scape, how fatiguing to the vision ; the up- 
heaving and disjunction of the hill masses and the 
various eminences, which many use as an argu- 
ment for the imperfect state of the material world, 
were in reality contributions to its beauty as well 
as essentials to the law of its formation, which the 
most unpractised eye discovers. 

^^ I should like to be all eye to admire such 
scenes as this the more. How insects must enjoy 
visible objects ; naturalists say they have thou- 
sands of eyes. Hook and Lieuwenhoeck assert 
that papillons have thirty thousand each and more, 
with every accessary to the perfect eye/* *' I 
knew some insects had numerous eyes.'* *' Then 
they must enjoy vision beyond us, I should think.*' 
'* May it not be a limited vision ?" '* That is the 
great question,** said the poet. '* Our notion of 
material, as of all perfection, was a vague imagining, 
a conventional term for what did not exist, and was 
never designed to do so/* He observed that man 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 259 

might improye to certain uses a portion of the 
earth's surface^ but he could not change for the 
better the face of Nature ; let him level the hills 
and turn the water-courses^ they would not be ' 
nearer perfection than they are now^ nor contri- 
bute so well to the symmetry, harmony, aud well- 
being of the universe. He then travelled again 
to the Scotch hills, of which he spoke with en- 
thusiasm, but expressed his distaste at the climate. 
" Did you ever see Wapping," he said, "on a 
drizzling, wet spring day ?-that is just the ap- 
pearance of Glasgow for three parts of the year." 

But though Campbell did not spare the disad- 
vantages of his country's climate, nor at times 
the foibles of the Lowlanders — for he would not 
admit that the Highlanders had any defects worth 
naming — he would never tolerate an attack upon 
his native land by another, when even a jest upon 
it was merited. I sent him, when he was away 
from town, a paper entitled " Modern Athens," 
which I saw would never do, with a pressing 
desire for its imprimatur from Mr. Colbum. He 
was indifferent about the first part ; the second, 
which to a certain extent was personal, drew the 
reply I anticipated. He wrote to Colburn — 

** Pray reject it, with no ordinary indignation 
on my part. I am perfectly ready to^ allow that 
the paper displays abilities in the writer, which* 

8 9 



260 LITBBABY R]&MINISCENCSS AKD 

would render him a valuable contributor, if he 
chose to write like a gentleman, I am also per- 
suaded that Mr. Colboum* was seduced by the 
agreeable introductory pagfes of the article, and 
had not examined the whole when he proposed 
that I should publish it. But I would ask the 
author himself if he would dare to come forward 
with his own name, and affix it to such a vitupe- 
ration of the Scottish capital ? — 8uo periculo, I ven- 
ture to say that he would not dare to do so — I 
even defy him to the proof.'* 

We walked back to the cottage ; the poet was 
much pleased with his excursion. We dined, 
and rarely was Campbell more pleasant. He 
was not a story-teller frequently, but he related 
a tale well. 

The hUarity emanating from his excitement 
was delightful, in that the hearer could not help 
partaking deeply of its spirit. Unfortunately 
this story- telling was only occasionally witnessed. 
He threw something of the same kind of vivacity 
into his recital of poetry, not indeed productive 
of mirth, because the subject would not generally 
admit of it, but a species of enthusiasm that 
cheered and elevated those who heard him. He 
would sometimes attempt an improvvisatore parody 
upon what he had previously delivered, but he was 

* Thus he often spelled the name. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 261 

not very Bucoessful. To be yivacious and comic 
are different things. Vivacity is not necessarily 
comic^ and may not even exist in the comic tern* 
perament. The first cannot be simulated ; comedy 
may be so^ as it is continually with those tbeatri- 
cal performers whose general c^t of mind is at 
the moment of performance essentially sombre* 
There never was a man who had less of the 
comic in his character than Campbell^ yet at times 
he would pat on all the yivacious spirit of boyhood. 
To return to Cheltenham — other country walks 
were proposed^ but the poet wished to go into the 
town and call upon one or two persons with whom 
he was acquainted. While this matter was dis- 
cussing, a gentleman of a thick-set pejrson called, 
whom he introduced to me as Dr. Badham. The 
poet disliked the doctor; and, indeed, he had 
nothing prepossessing about his personal appear- 
ance. He had married a relative of Campbell's^ 
the beautiful Margaret Campbell, the daughter 
of his aunt, Mrs. John Campbell, who was no 
more, and whom he much deplored. The poet bad 
a great distaste for him, and gave me his reasons* 
The doctor was of that class of persons whom one 
cannot like at first sight, nor afterwards, one can- 
not tell why — a *' Dr. Fell " kind of personage* 
He published a translation of the satires of Juve- 
nal, as if those of Drydeo, Stapylton, and Gifibrd^ 



262 LITEEARY REMINISCExVCES AND 

were not enough — ^in fact, already too many-^con- 
sidering the filthy lubricity of Soman vice dis- 
played in them, which no affectation of scholarship 
in the mind of any individual really regardful of 
morality, could select for multiplication in society. 
There was no accounting for tastes, the poet 
observed one day, while speaking of the transla- 
tion. The doctor inscribed his *' Juvenal *' to Sir 
Henry Halford, and obtained the professorship of 
medicine at the College of Glasgow subsequently, 
I think, to this meeting at Cheltenham, which he 
held tilliiis decease. The *' Quarterly Review ^* 
criticised the *' Juvenal,*' not much to the taste of 
Dr. Badham, in return for which, when Gifford 
was no more, but not till then, he had the pre- 
sumption to censure that scholar's translation in a 
preface to a second edition in Yalpy's Classics, 
opposing his own medical transcendentalism to 
the labour of a dry but accomplished scholar. 

After the doctor went away, we were walking 
into the town, and in the avenue to the Montpel- 

lier Spa met Lady F , who at that time was 

much distinguished in the society of Cheltenham. 
An invitation to dinner followed for the next day. 
Campbell would not promise. *^ Come and take 
a family dinner to-day, then; we shall expect 
you." The poet assented, because the next day 
he wished to keep open for an excursion to Mai- 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 263 

vern, whither I had been trying to tempt him. 
These minutiae are mentioned because they exhibit 
the personal character of the poet; and none 
more so than his absence of mind in the present 
case. 

We were on the point of returning to the 
cottage, having made several calls^ when Campbell 
said^ 

*^ There is one call I must make alone — I must 
call upon a widow with two lovely children ; she 

has been treated with great unkindness by , 

who was on the point of marrying her.* If you 
will go towards home^ I will quickly follow you— 
I will not remain long." 

I went home and waited some time^ but no 
Campbell appeared. I took up a book, and 
whiled away the time until it was necessary to 
dress for dinner. I then began to be fidgetty 
about what had become of him. I had looked 
out of the window at the Malvern hills, thinking 
of some of my family that reposed in dust in the 
vale beneath — I had looked until I was tired ; 
but darkness came on and covered all, increasing 
with my increasing wonder ; no Campbell ap* 
peared. At length the clock struck six, then a 
half hour more passed away, which was the time 
of dinner. Keeping the appointment was now 
out of the question. I ordered something for 



?-64 UTBAABT BEMINI8CSNCS8 AND 

myself at our qnarters, and had nearly demolished 
the larger part of it before Campbell returned. 

*' A pretty joke we have played Lady F ^* 

I obserred ; '' I haye been waiting for you on 
thorns for hours/' 

'^ We dine there to-morrow> my good friend,'* 
he replied. 

*^ I beg your pardon, it was to-day ; did you 
not engage in the Montpellier-walk T' 

'^ Did 1 7 then I forgot all about how we were 
situated, nor did I think of your waiting; why 
did'you not go V^ 

** Because, of course, I waited for you." 

**The truth is,*' answered the poet, ''that I 

called on Mrs. , got into agreeable chat, and 

forgot all about it. She had with her a very 
sensible lady, who conversed remarkably well, and 
they dined early ; they pressed me to stay ; it waa 
difficult to resist the solicitations of a couple of 
pretty women to remain longer in their company, 
one of them the sweetest creature in the world. 
I don't know how to apologise for leaving you 
alone." 

" Never mind me, think of Lady F . I 

have consoled myself with that which wise men 
say makes glad the heart of man," pointing to 
the sherry. 

The next day was to enact wonders. The 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 265 

morning arriyed^ and brought no proof of '' The- 
odoric " firom town^ which was to follow me tho 
next post. The poet became restless and discon- 
tented, though a day or two of delay could not 
really be of ^ny moment ; he walked up and down 
the room^ troubled and uneasy ; nothing reconciled 
him to the absence of the proof; and he got so 
excited at last that he started for town by the 
mail. The next day the proof arrived, having 
crossed him on the road. He assured me he 
would be back to Cheltenham in a couple of days. 
I visited Great Malvern, came back, and found a 
letter from him, saying he was indisposed, and 
felt quite unable to return. Thus his self- 
promised agreeabilities all vanished. I put to- 
gether his papers and a few books, and added 
them to my own luggage. When I left Chelten« 
ham I found he had laid in a store of good things, 
sufficient for both of us for some weeks longer^ 
which I could only present to the people of the 
house. 

Thus terminated what Mrs. Campbell called the 
" Cheltenham expedition," adding, whenever she 
spoke of it to me, 

** Did I not tell you how your country walks 
would end, and the stories of your pedestrian 
rambles ?" 

All this was cWacteristic of that restlessness 



266 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

SO often displayed in the poet*8 character. Some 
image of a better aspect than that which is within 
the grasp of the present, tricks itself out in the 
guise of the illusive future, and destroys the 
worth of all that is within reach. Less de- 
veloped in some than in others of the sons of 
the muses, it is evident that something of the 
kind generally marks the poetic temperament. At 
a later period there was a tinge of the same hue 
discoverable in the poet's continual changes of 
residence, and alterations of his dinner and break- 
fast hours. It was a feeling like that of sickly 
childhood^ which fancies it shall feel better or 
happier in some new position with a new toy. 

To return to " Theodoric :" there is much of 
the author's character of mind in the poem. It 
commences with an energy and elegance which 
diminish as the poem proceeds, and soon become 
exhausted. At starting, the poet was lavish of 
the power that his strength will not sustain beyond 
a certain point; it then degenerates. Thus the 
poet succeeded in his shorter pieces and inimit- 
able lyrics, the spirit of which, like that of the 
war-horse, answers to the sound of the lordly 
hoof, rejoicing in its strength ; the energy pri- 
marily kindled being concentrated in a short 
task, got no over-fatigue by protracted exertion. 
Hence the beauty, strength, and simplicity of the 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 267 

lyrics, which seem to image the poet's peculiar 
temperament, equally visible in the commonest 
things. Still there are fine lines in " Theodoric,^'- 
which call Campbell's better works forcibly to re- 
collection, though the inequality of the poem is 
so great. He avails himself, too, of " alliteration's 
artful aid " more than was his previous custom. 
The opening line. 

Warmth flushed the wonted regions of the stormi 

is like himself, though 

Heights browsed by the bomiding bouquetin 

is artificial. 

So lucid is his poetry,'that it is at once com- 
prehended by every order of mind. To attain 
this crowning advantage, he sacrifices no grace of 
art, no elegance of style. In his better works he 
never becomes common-place and vulgar, as too 
many writers have become for that purpose. This 
is the keystone of excellence ; the secret which 
links the 'labours of the poet with all memory. 
Hence, such productions are most quoted by the 
orator, as illustrations or as stirring appeals to the 
passions of an auditory. The poet whose works 
have to be considered and reconsidered in order 
to extract his meaning, who seeks the sublime in 
obscurity, or, to exhibit a pearl, obliges the reader 



268 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

to grope through a bushel of chaff, can neither 
expect nor merit lasting renown^ notwithstanding 
the efforts of admiriers, and every extrinsic aid 
from art directed to force that admiration^ which, 
to be honest and effectiye^ must be spontaneously 
excited. For many years before his decease^ 
Campbell had the pleasure, so flattering to one to 
whom &me was never ungrateful^ and few had to 
boast of that which was more merited or more 
honest in its nature — he had the pleasure of hear- 
ing his verses quoted oftener than any contempo- 
rary writer, in the senate^ on public occasions^ and 
in the social circle, wherever .a patriotic appeal, 
a philosophical truth, or a tender sentiment, 
required illustration. The " meteor flag of Eng- 
land," that had " braved a thousand years the 
battle and the breeze," so dear to the memory of 
our all-glorious navy — the '^ Coming events, that 
cast their shadows before" — or, " Life's morning 
march, when the bosom was young," will continue 
to hang upon every tongue while the language to 
which they belong shall endure. The poet aimed 
at being as simple and faultless as possible, with- 
out impoverishing the stores of a richimaginatioai 
in their embodjdngs. He restrains the exube- 
rance of his muse only when she becomes diffuse, 
or, in the prodigality of her wealth, is inclined to 
exceed the limit of the polished and tasteful. He 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 269 

purcliases brilliancy and variety at the expense of 
yerisimilitude, on one or two occasions, the conse- 
quences of OTer-attention to his main object, and 
frequently tames down his lines, from an anxiety 
for correctness, which deprives them of their 
sharpness. That author stands unpardonable in 
the public view, who falls short, in his latest works, 
of the excellence, in every point, of the work 
which preceded it. The merciless despotism of 
the public, like all despotisms, taking every thing 
upon trust, nothing on the footing of merit, con- 
sidered in relation to circumstance, prefers the 
best production of a writer of mediocrity, to afar 
worthier work if it be the second-best of a writer 
of first-rate excellence. Had " Theodoric'* been 
a better poem than it was, unless it outshone the 
" Pleasures of Hope" and " Gertrude," it would 
not have succeeded better than it did. 

There is a simile in " Theodoric," the origin of 
which I remember. We were sitting at coffee, 
when two volumes of "Las Casas' Account of 
Bonaparte" were brought in. Campbell opened 
one of them in a careless way, and hit upon the 
passage in which the emperor, speaking of Corsica, 
said, '' That if he were taken blindfold to Corsica, 
he should know where he was by the smell of the 
earth, which haunted him from his youthful re- 
collections." This passage struck the poet very 



270 LITERARY REMINISCSNCES AND 

forcibly. He recurred to it again and again. 
When '^ Theodoric" was completed^ I fonnd he 
had introduced the thought in the lines — 

Where, by the very smell of dairy fanns. 

And fragrance from the monntain herbage blown. 

Blindfold his fiatwe kUb he could have known. 

The thought is not mended^ nor does the note 
attached to the text give Napoleon's expression^ 
which is to be found in volume ii., p. 343, of Las 
Casas — ^' He/^ Bonaparte, " thought that the very 
smell of the earth would enable him to distinguish 
his native land, even were he conducted bUnd-^ 
folded to her shores.** 

The poet had a sincere love for his country^ as 
may be judged from his unrivalled lyrics^ and he 
felt this affection strongly when he wrote " Theo- 
doric." He was particularly partial to the navy^ 
and fond of hearing about the exploits of seamen. 
Several years I had spent in the height of the war 
iu a locality where its bustle and energetic actors 
surrounded me, and I knew many brave men^ and 
was acquainted with many of their exploits never 
blazoned in official records. The poet was fond 
of such recitals, and would listen with eagerness 
to the most trivial^ sometimes originating the 
subject of conversation purposely. He had been 
to see the launch of a Iine-of*battle ship some- 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 271 

where down the river, only two or three years 
before he left London for Boulogne. He told me 
the circumstance, and told it with delight, though, 
at a moment when his bodily frame was rapidly 
yielding to Time's pressure. " As the vessel went 
off the stocks," he said, '^ I felt myself in a state 
of mental transport." His patriotic feelings were 
in a similar way renewed when he wrote the lines 
in " Theodoric." 

A glad enthusiast now explored the land, 

Where nature, freedom, art, smile hand in hand ; < 

Her women fair ; her men robust for toil ; 

Her yigorouB souls high cultured as her soil; 

Her towns where civic independence flings 

The gaimtlet down to senates, courts, and kings ; 

Her works of art resembling magic's powers, 

Her mighty fleets, and learning's beauteous bowers. 

That Campbell was alive to every phase of 
public opinion regarding his works, there is not 
the smallest doubt, at the same time that he was 
aware of the lasting character of that popularity 
which he had already secured. His existing 
literary reputation, therefore, consoled him under 
the severity of ill or well-founded criticism upon 
his later and feebler productions. He had the 
reflection ever recurring ,that the stability of his 
reputation could not be shaken ; for though he 
had achieved little^ that little was transcendent. 



27^ LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

He did not suffer his gratification to be visible to 
the world, for it would have Wounded his self- 
respect. Accidental circumstances sometimes 
unmasked the reality of this feeling. Being alone 
one day, we were conversing about the ambition 
of many men for fame. I remarked that it was as 
much a vanity as any other passion philosophically 
considered — what was a great name *^ to him that 
died yesterday !** Falstaff's trim reckoning, and no 
more. Campbell observed, " This may be true, 
but you would like such a renown as Napoleon's, 
for example.'* 

"The infirmity of noble minds,** I replied, 
" would not move me to exchange my obscurity 
for a tombstone. I would not give life for un- 
conscious reputation." 

" I would die to-morrow/' remarked the poet, 
" for such renown as that of Napoleon." 

From a close observation of the poet's mental 
constitution, as it was continually exhibitiog for a 
succession of years, there seemed, to an ob- 
server like myself, some deficiency in his memory 
in relation to ordinary matters, even when in con- 
nection with important facts. In such instances 
the best were retained, while the accessories went 
unobserved. There are persons whose, memories 
ever retain the remembrance of a face they have 
beheld but once, while they cannot recall the 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 273 

proper names of those they have often seen. 
Campbell^s memory was admirably stored with 
passages from ancient and modern writers. He 
could quote and repeat without a halt thirty and 
forty Greek rerses applicable to a present subject 
of discourse, and follow them up with others 
firom the English and Italian writers, in a way 
few other men could do ; but it was rarely, in- 
deed, that he was to be found in the humour to 
talk of what he called ^' the lamp." Latin was 
less a favourite with him than Greek. He spoke 
French fluently, yet I scarcely ever remember 
hearing him quote a writer in that tongue. It was 
not a common deficiency in memory, therefore, 
that occasioned certain trivial and rather obvious 
errors and inaccuracies in regard to facts to escape 
him. Perhaps it was an anxiety to be over- 
correct, that often generates similar defects, or it 
maybe applied to some peculiar lapse in technical 
recollection. Pains-taking he certainly was, and 
would never suffer a critical error to pass, like 
Hume did, for want of energy to arise from his 
chair and refer to his books in order to settle a 
date or place, beyond doubt; he rather passed 
over an error from inattention to small things, his 
mind being occupied with the main object before 
him. 

He would sometimes misspel words in his manu- 

VOL. I. T 



274 LITERARY REMTXISGBNCES AND 

script, and, as if in thorough carelessness, permit the 
error to pass in the proof. As I made it a rule scru- 
pulously never to alter a word of his manuscript^ if 
I could avoid it^ but to desire a revise to be sent 
to him, pointing out the defect, he sometimes ex- 
plained it by saying, that when he wrote it he had 
his doubts and intended to refer, but had sent the 
proof back, forgetting to do so. Once, when he 
was in Glasgow, he sent a corrected proof of his 
own to the printer by post, leaving the proper 
name, " Erastothenes," in place of '' Eratosthe- 
nes." I ordered the printer to send a second 
proof to him, and wrote him why. He returned 
the proof unaltered, and the next post after that^ 
brought me the following ; — 

'' In my half-state of blindness I did not attend 
to one part of your letter before I sent off the 
sheet. The name is ' Eratosthenes,' and not ^ Eras- 
to thenes.^'* 

I had made it right, of course, and sent the 
proof to the printer, because time pressed ; but I 
made a point of never doing so, if it was possible 
to be avoided, however trivial and obvious the 
error, because it was a matter upon which he was, 
I had early perceived, exceedingly sensitive. It 
was evident he disliked that any one should shed 
ink upon his manuscripts or proofi but himself. 

At another time he wrote a Greek word wrong. 



k 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 275 

EwiTCL^oi for 'EinTa^Ho^, and passed it over eyen 
when I wrote him that he was wrong* It was in 
Lysias* funeral oration. I did not designate the 
word, and he sent it back unaltered. I was, there- 
fore, obliged to do it myself, though one of the 
things I most disliked ; but, as usual, there was 
not time for further explanation. 

The inattention of the poet to collateral things, 
already noticed, was a part of his nature, and per- 
vaded his social intercourse. It appeared difficult 
for him to abandon the leading idea of the moment 
to consider anything subsidiary to the immediate 
purpose in which he had become absorbed ; 
and whatever he did besides seemed the result of 
instinct rather than reflection. The following 
trivial incidents exhibit this peculiarity. 

I had promised to be in Upper Seymour Street 
on a Friday evening. After the engagement was 
made, I saw the poet, and mentioned to him that 
Count Santorre de Santa Rosa, who had been war- 
minister to the King of Piedmont in 1820, and 
was now an exile, would be glad to be introduced 
to him at the house of a friend, whom he did not 
know. That I would be there in consequence, 
and that the Friday fixed for a meeting at his pwn 
house, it would, perhaps, be better to alter to 
another day. The next morning I heard from 
him to this effect — 

T 2 



276 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

** On Friday I have promised to meet the Mar- 
quis of Santa Rosa^ so on that day I shall not 
have the pleasure of meeting you." 
I replied — 

'^ I shall have the pleasure of meeting you^ be- 
cause I bore you the invitation to meet Count 
Santa Bosa^ at a house where I believe I am to 
introduce you to the host.*' 

Another instance^ equally trivial in itself^ but 
exemplifying the abstraction of mind into which 
Campbell continually fell, was on his receiving a 
brace of partridges^ sending them both to me the 
night before for the next day's breakfast. Early 
in the morning, a servant came to me with a note^ 
of which the following characteristic passage is an 
extract : — 

" By mistake, two small birds have been sent 
to you instead of one. You will call me the shab- 
biest fellow in the world to ask one small bird 
back, and remind me that to give a thing and 
take a thing is like the devil's gold ring ; — but I 
shall acquit myself to be a real gentleman and not 
a devil's gold ring, on the first arrival of my ex- 
pected Glenlivet from Scotland.'* 

This was a double piece of forgetfulness. We 
met so often at dinner or at coffee, a moment's 
recollection must have reminded him that I never 
took Glenlivet nor any kind of whiskey. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 277 

Sometimes this mental abstraction would appear 
in another form^ namely^ in utter forgetfulness of 
the effect of something he did upon the mind of 
another in the way of slight, when he never in- 
tended anything of the kind, and would have 
been deeply hurt at such an interpretation being 
put upon his conduct. I remember his inviting^ 
Lockhart to dinner, saying he had just one vacant 
place for him on the day fixed. Soon afterwar^s^ 
he found he had not a vacant place, and then he 
wrote to annul his previous invitation, on the 
ground of his mistake. The truth was, that he 
did not intend to put off Lockhart, but one with 
whom he could take any liberty. Lockhart 
could not understand it, until I explained it must 
be an error, and advised him to go. He had 
addressed the letter wrong. 

Count Santa Bosa was, in many respects, a very 
remarkable man, and Campbell contracted a great 
friendship for him* He was possessed of consi- 
derable attainments ; an acute understanding, and 
great goodness of disposition. In person he was 
below the middle height, short-sighted, and stam- 
mered in his speech. He despaired of mastering 
the English tongue, although he spoke it as well 
as most foreigners. This notion, and the small 
prospect afforded him of a return to his country, 
where he was esteemed even by his enemies, with 



278 lilTEBAET REMINISCENCES AND 

the pain of a separation from his family, which 
seemed to him to be final, contributed to strengthen 
his resolution of proceeding to Greece, and seek- 
ing in the service of that country either the due 
reward of his exertions, or an honourable death. 
He was eminently fitted to benefit the cause he 
^had undertaken. He had been war-minister to 
the King of Piedmont ; he had great experience 
in state affairs, and wrote well. On arriving in 
Grreece he soon perceived, that from the ill-regu- 
lated conduct of the different parties, he could be 
of no use but in the field. He purchased an Al- 
banian dress, and hastened to meet the enemy, in 
command of a few Greek soldiers, under his 
countryman. Major CoUegno. Opposing the land* 
ing of Ibrahim Pacha, in the dress of a simple 
Pallikar, Count Santa Kosa fell at Old Navarino. 
He had a presentiment of his fate, and before the 
battle, Ti^as seen to kiss a miniature picture of his 
wife, and fling it into the waves. Ibrahim Pacha 
gave permission that a search among the slain 
should be made for his body ; but as it could not 
be found, it was supposed to have been thrown 
into the sea. On the news of his death, an af- 
fected sorrow was displayed by the King and 
Court of Piedmont, which was, notwithstanding 
its hoUowness, an evidence of the estimation 
which his ungrateful countrymen were conscious 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 279 

he merited. Campbell, after this introduction, 
delighted in the count's society and unaffected 
manners, finding in his varied stores of informa- 
tion a solution of many of the apparent contra* 
dictions in the conduct of the southern liberals in 
Europe, for which he could not before account. 
He would listen attentively to the count's relation 
of the Machiavellisms of the European govern- 
ments in their dealings with each other^ and ex- 
press astonishment at the meanness of the conduct 
of the rulers of states, and the shallowness of 
their diplomatic resources. '^ If business between 
man and man,^* said the poet, *' were to be con- 
ducted like that between diplomatists^ in what a 
state of scoundreliam would society exUt !" 



280 LITE&ARY REMINISCENCES AND 



L 



CHAPTER IX. 

" Theodoric."^— Eemarks on that poem. — Singnlar and nn- 
. erpected visit from a Mohawk Chief. — The poef 8 
feelings respecting hostile criticism. — Bearing towards 
Hazlitt. — Letter from Sydenham thanking a friend in a 
' reply to the " Critic." — Byron's remark on Campbell's 
sensitiyeness. — Coleridge. — Poem of " The Last Man." 
— Mistake of the poet about the origin of the idea. — 
Campbell's attachment to political economy. 

|HEODORIC/' unintentionally perhaps, 
on the part of the author, inclined 
much more in style to the. modem taste 
in poetry than the *' Pleasures of Hope.'* The 
romantic school jsucceeded in tempering the for- 
mality of the classic^ but by this term must not 
be understood that prevailing flood of diluted 
rhyme which has been since misnamed poetry, 
seeming in its admirers' view more excellent iif 
proportion to the meanness of the subject and the 




MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 281 

facility with which its torrent of words can be 
poured forth with little regard to the sense. The 
merit of a fine picture by Raphael or Titian 
does not consist in the flimsiness with which it is 
executed^ nor in the trivial character of the sub- 
ject. Campbell^ from inclining in his last pro- 
ductions towards the later taste^ gained nothing, 
and lost much of the effect his previous style 
secured for him. A portion of the inferiority of 
" Theodoric " arises from this cause, indepen- 
dently of its feebleness as a story. 

After all, it must be admitted that about those 
works of genius which are of a lasting character, 
there hangs an impenetrable mystery as to the 
composition. They must be taken as they appear 
at long intervals, and as they present themselves. 
The mechanical utilitarians of the hour must con- 
tinue to feel astonished that literary works like 
the '' Pleasures of Hope,*' or «* Childe Harold,'* 
cannot be produced with the rapidity of manu- 
factures ; that one such work is tantamount to 
the history of a life ; that a deathless name shall 
continue to be allied with humble circumstances ; 
that literary '^ manufactures " cannot give a lease 
of remembrance beyond the class of the material 
to which they belong ; that the mechanical mark 
upon such works stamps a deterioration upon 
their character, not to be changed by the caprice 



282 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

of fashion^ or the predisposition of the ignorant^ 
for what sympathizes better with their compre- 
hension ; that the age favoured of wealthy and 
the advance of the bulk of society in knowledge 
should find genius still contumacious to the rule 
of the all- worshipped Mammon, and that no fresh 
graces are added to the productions of the past ; 
in short, that genius retrogades in place of ad- 
vancing^ as if conscious of something in its nature 
which cannot intermingle with the predominant 
earthiness of the hour. 

Allusions in '^ Theodoric '' are many of them 
borrowed from the author himself. Thus for the 
line in the " Pleasures of Hope ** — 

** The wolf's long howl on Oonalaska's shore — " 

'' Theodoric " has 

*'' The woirs long howl in dismal disoord join'd.'* 

Many like instances might be cited. The story 
might have been made more of, but sentiment 
was the poet's forte, and richness of imagery bis 
great excellence. Full of tenderness, his senti- 
ment goes deep into the soul. The ambition of 
departed years is visible throughout, but it^is 
only worked out in a dim sketch. 

The concluding portion of '' Theodoric '* is not 
worthy of the commencement. It is always 







MBMOIBS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 283 

politic to wind up well^ tliat the reader may leave 
off with a favourable impression from what he 
has perused. The ** Pleasures of Hope " comes 
nobly to its conclusion^ and the gentle ^'Ger- 
trude " terminates her song in a manner equally 
effective and appropriate ; but *' Theodoric '* is 
brought to its termination faintly and wearily, 
without a line that leaves upon the mind of the 
reader the reflection that he has been perusing 
a work to which he may return with renewed 
pleasure. It is singular that so perfect a master 
of his art should have overlooked this pointy for 
he could hardly have intended to try how far his 
verse might be led to please by extreme gentle- 
ness and even tameness in contrast to the vigour 
and strength it had before displayed. He com- 
posed much of "Theodoric** in his study in 
Seymour Street. I once wrote letters there, 
while he worked at his task. He corrected several 
of the proofs at another, time while I was present, 
during which I employed myself in reading ; for 
then there was not a word of conversation. Al- 
though he spoke of what he had in hand» I never 
saw the entire manuscript until just before he had 
copied it out for the printer. When he mentioned 
the title^ I said, ^ What, the king of the Ostro* 
gothsT' 



284 LITEBART REMINISCENCES AND 



*' No, no," he replied ; '* a love-story. I have 
only borrowed the name/' 

Theodoric was, of course, reviewed in the 
" Quarterly," then under the editorship of Mr. 
Coleridge. The diatribe was marked by all the 
virulence that an obscure individual, suddenly 
elevated to an office he had not the capacity to 
fill, could pour out. His incompetence for his 
post, his displacement in due time fully proved. 
The splenetic feeling of the party the review ad- 
vocated, was fully displayed on the occasion. The 
Whig was denounced in the "Quarterly," and the 
Tory in the '* Edinburgh Review ;'* scandal and 
falsehood being unsparingly used by both ; but in 
" flinging dirt," the '* Quarterly " had the advan- 
tage. Gifford was no more, but "Wilson Croker 
still continued to violate in its pages the maxim 
of Jonathan Wild, under a new editor, that mis- 
chief should be husbanded, being too precious a 
commodity to be wasted. The uncle of Mr» 
Coleridge had lectured against the " Pleasures of 
Hope '' in times gone past. This, perhaps, moved 
the editor upon the occasion. Even the unfortu- 
nate hero of the poem was christened Macbeth in 
the review. I remarked to Campbell, that Croker 
and the editor had no doubt held a consultation 
on the subject. The poet smiled, but it was easy 
to see, that while trying to bear it heroically, he 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 285' 



yj 



felt it keenly. His '' Specimens of the Poets 
were not reviewed at all in the " Quarterly," be- 
cause they were the property of Murray, to whom 
the '^ Quarterly " belonged, and to damn them in 
its pages being the law if they . appeared at all, 
they were spared. 

" Here/* said Campbell, " are a dozen copies 
of a ' Letter to the Editor of the Quarterly,' sent 
me from Edinburgh; I know not by whom 
written; it is pleasant to have unknown de- 
fenders.*' 

The poet gave me a copy. Time has exhibited 
the vanity of the mock thunder of the review, 
and the allusions to it would not have been made 
but as it may operate as a lesson to literary men, 
whose works are abused from party motives, and 
to the public of the. value of anonymous criticism. 
The following is an extract from the close of the 
pamphlet on a review marked by singular dis- 
honesty and virulence. After remarking on Mr. 
Coleridge's disqualification for his office, the 
writer proceeds, referring to Campbell's popularity. 

" Let us measure the altitude of your own. 
Who are you ? A nephew of Coleridge the poet, 
— not his son, who is said to be a genius ; but 
high talents are not hereditary, either collaterally 
or directly. To say that this or that person could 
swear to your being clever, is saying nothing, for 



286 LITERABT REMINISCENCES AND 

brigades of what are called clerer men coukl be 
raised all over the coutitry, and every third man 
could scarcely fail to find a couple of housekeepers 
any day ready to be bail for his being a man of 
genius. But does your public reputation entitle 
you to speak as a man having authority ? If it 
be not so^ you have been audaciously wrong to 
mount the tribune. As a lawyer, the newspapers 
wrong yovL, if a single senteuce of eloquence 
ever came from your lips; and common report 
describes you as a man of most central mediocrity, 
both in your conversation and profession. If it 
be otherwise, tell us by what token we are to 
judge of you ; produce your proofs of ability. It 
is notorious, that the political reviews of the 
' Quarterly ' have for a considerable time past 
been one of its weakest props. In those which 
have been imputed to you, I should appeal to any 
man acquainted with criticism, whether there be 
the symptom of spirited originality, or of labo- 
rious common-place ; aud whether the mind that 
indited them is more to be compared to a fine 
time^piece, impelled by its own iiigh-wound 
springs, or to a Dutch clock, with its see-saw 
pendulum and varnished cuckoo, that is moved by 
leads. Verily, if the hours of a poet's popularity 
are to be measured by clock-work, it is hard that 
they should be reckoned by your wooden wheels.'' 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 287 

About that time, Campbell was surprised by a 
call from a friend of Brant, or Brandt, the Indian 
chief whom he had charged with such atrocities 
in his " Gertrude." Some travellers, and among 
them Lieutenant Hall, of the dragoons, had, in 
visiting America, made mention in their pubUshed 
tours of an Indian chief having held the rank of 
colonel in the British service in America. Brant 
was the only son of the chief whom Campbell 
denounced as the destroyer of the village of Wyo- 
ming, upon the banks of the Susquehanna, where 
now stands the town of Wilksbarre. It appeared 
that Brandt had settled in Canada under the pro- 
tection of his British allies : that he had * accus- 
tomed his people, the Mohawks, to farming ; had 
built a church, and translated one of the Gospels 
into the Mohawk language. His grave was found 
by Lieutenant Hall (so his travels stated) under 
the walls of the church he had erected. He left 
behind him a son and daughter. The British 
government had erected a large house for the 
chief, near Burlington, on Lake Erie. His son 
was a fine young man, of gentlemanly manners 
and appearance, who spoke and wrote English 
well, dressed in the English fashion, and was a 
lieutenant in the English service* His sister 
would not have disgraced the circles of fashion 
in ^Europe ; her face and person were fine and 



288 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

graceful. She spoke English elegantly^ and com- 
ported herself both in address and manner with 
almost Oriental softness. 

This much had been known in Europe^ though 
tmtil this unexpected event relative to young Brant 
(as the Indian name should be spelled) Campbell 
had not any other knowledge of the chief than 
he might have gleaned firom the *' History of the 
Destruction of Wyoming by the English and 
Indians in 1778/' and that history^ in some points, 
appears to have been exceedingly erroneous. The 
inhabitants were nearly all massacred, of three 
hundred men only four escaping. The command- 
ers on both sides are said to have been named 
Butler. Brant, the Mohawk chief, was many 
miles firom the spot when the battle took place. 
Campbell, with a poet's licence and haste, had 
taken the current account of this battle, in which 
Brant was represented as a monster, whereas he 
was an Indian of singularly civilised habits. All 
this became known to him for a fact by young 
Brant coming to England. A firiend first an- 
nounced such an event, and that the young TiMJi^n 
chief had documents which would incontestably 
prove his father's innocence. Campbell stated 
that he had, as poets had done firom time imme- 
morial, drawn upon imagination for the larger part 
of the incidents in the poem, taking the name of 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 289 

Brant from history. He added that he could not 
have dreamed at the time he did so, that an In- 
dian chief woidd ever be affected by it, much less 
peruse its contents. It must be admitted, that 
with the state of information in England, even in 
I8O89 it might as well have been imagined that 
the St. Lawrence should flow to London as that 
the people represented, and believed in England 
to be horrible savages, putting prisoners to un- 
heard-of tortures, and scarcely attaining beyond 
animal existence, should find an individual in their 
number who could be as sensitive as Brant was 
about his father's fair fame. Time and the march 
of information had in twenty years done wonders 
in England as well as in America, and the son of 
the redoubted chief whom Campbell represented 
as heading the slaughter at Wyoming, soon after 
entered the poet's dwelling in London, to ask that 
redress for his father's memory which the poet 
could not but be gratified in conceding. I think 
Campbell informed me afterwards, that young 
Brant had become Lieutenant-colonel Brant.* 

* He bas paid the debt of nature as weU as the poet. 
The following is from ^ an American paper, the date of 
which I have unfortunately missed :— 

" At the Mohawk village, near Brantford, John Srant, 
Esq., chief of the Mohawk tribe of Indians, and son of 
the gallant chieftain who distinguished himself so nobly in 
the reyolutionary and late wars. Mr. Brant was an ac- 

VOL. !• V 



290 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

This incident was^ upon the whole^ a singular and 
touching event in the poet's life. 

In the letter which he wrote to Brant^ and pub- 
lished^ he says that he ''took the liberty of a 
versifier to run away from fact into fancy> like a 
schoolboy who never dreams that he is a truant 
when he rambles on a holiday from school. It 
seemSy however, that I falsely represented Wy- 
oming" — (Campbell alludes here to the Canadian 
newspapers) — " as a terrestrial paradise. It was 
not so, say the Canadian papers, because it con- 
tained a great number of Tories ; and, undoubt- 
edly, that cause goes far to account for the fact. 
Earthly paradises, however, are not lasting things, 
and Tempe and Arcadia may have their draw- 
backs on happiness as well as Wyoming. I must, 
nevertheless, still believe, that it was a flourishing 
colony, and that its destruction furnished a just 
warning to human beings against war and revenge. 
But the whole catastrophe is affirmed in a Cana- 
dian newspaper to have been nothing more than 
a fair battle. If this be the fact, let accredited 
signatures coijie forward to attest it, and vindi- 
cate the innocence and houourableness of the 
whole transaction, as your father's character has 

complifihed gentleman, and died sincerely regretted by a 
numerouB circle of acquaintances of the first respecta- 
bility." 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 291 

been vindicated. An error about him by no 
means proves the whole account of the business to 
be a fiction. Who would not wish its atrocity to 
be disproved ! But who can think it disproved 
by a single defender^ who writes anoAymously 
and without definable weight or authority V* 

There was a note subjoined to the letter thus 
addressed to Brant^ which slightly noticed his own 
feelings about hostile criticism^ and the submis- 
sion of his work to the censorship of friends. I 
believe, — from something like the best part of 
thirty years' closer intimacy with Campbell, for the 
best part of that time, than any other man, — I be- 
lieve that what he states is strictly correct. Ex- 
cept in early life, when he submitted to the kind 
advice and critical judgment of Dr. Anderson the 
manuscript copy of the " Pleasures of Hope," he 
consulted nobody in the composition of his 
poems. In solitude and silence he conceived and 
composed them. He was a proud man in this 
sense ; he would have thought it an insult to his 
own understanding to consult this individual or 
that, who might be among his friends, and to take 
their judgment in preference to his own, after his 
former efforts had been crowned with great suc- 
cess. He might have read the manuscript to a 
friend or two before he put it into the printer's 

V 2 



292 UTERABI &£MII41SG£KCfi8 AND 

hand, but only when it was perfected. The world 
has a notion, that a different is a wise course, be- 
cause in these matters the world is as foolish as its 
own idea. Who are the critics of the hour^ but 
men nine times out of ten utterly incapable of 
themselyes exhibiting a tithe of the merit upon 
which they assume to sit in judgment ? If Racine 
read his verses to an old woman, it was only that 
he might avail himself of obvious objections that 
would strike plain minds before a theatrical audi- 
ence, and afford him the means of considering 
those meriting alteration. Such is the corruption 
of what is miscalled criticism in modern times, 
that interest, party feeling, private dislike, or the 
reverse, govern notices of new works, since criti- 
cisms they cannot be called, where no analysation 
of such works takes place — where the critic^ self- 
styled, rarely gives the work he treats upon even 
a decent perusal. 

Campbell says, I have no doubt with the most 
perfect truth, — " Nor did I ever lean on the taste 
of others with that miserable distrust of my own 
judgment which the anecdote conveys," referring 
to a statement from which Washington Irving, in 
a biographical notice prefixed to an American edi- 
tion of " Gertrude of Wyoming," infers that he 
did. In regard to criticism, he was too proud to 
exhibit what he felt, though '^ as far as authors 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 293 

generally are from bowing to the justice of hostile 
criticism,'* to use his own words. 

Still Campbell could not forgive any who 
made a blow at him, where the result would not 
admit of being interpreted but to his disadvantage. 
He felt, then, that he had the worst of the matter 
at issue, the criticism being no party or personal 
matter, and that he was^ in consequence, so far 
injured. This it must be confessed he never 
forgot. He did not care what spleen or party 
feeling or malevolence might do; these unjust 
attacks his own position and consciousness of 
merit might repel, but real justice in an attack 
struck home, and he never got over his antipathy 
to its author. 

Hazlitt had justice on his side^when he said of 
Campbell^ that though he loved popularity, self- 
respect was the primary law — the condition on 
which it was to be obtained. He never tolerated 
the remarks made by this writer, although it 
cannot be denied that Hazlitt has commended his 
poetry in the highest terms ; he has given the 
poet all but boundless praise. ** Campbell," he 
says '' excels chiefly in sentiment and imagery. 
The story moves slow, and is mechanically con- 
ducted, and rather resembles a Scotch canal 
carried over lengthened aqueducts, and with a 
number of locks in it, than one of those rivers 



294 LITEBA&T REMINISCENCES AND 

that sweep in their majestic course hroad and 
fall over Transatlantic plains, and lose themselves 
in rolling gulfs, or thunder down lofty precipices. 
But in the centre, the inmost recesses of the 
poet's heart, the pearly dew of sensibility is dis- 
tilled and collects, like the diamond in the mine, 
and the structure of his fame rests on the crystal 
columns of a polished imagination. We prefer 
the * Gertrude ' to the * Pleasures of Hope,' be- 
cause, with perhaps less brilliancy, there is more 
of tenderness and of natural imagery in the 
former." Again, ** in the ' Gertrude of Wyo- 
ming' we perceive a softness coming over the 
heart of the author, and the sides and crust 
of formality that fence in his couplets, and give 
them a somewhat glittering and rigid appearance, 
fall off, and he has succeeded in engrafting the 
wild and more expansive interest of the romantic 
school of poetry on classic elegance and preci- 
sion." But all Hazlitt's remarks were neutralised 
in Campbell's estimation by the discovery that one 
of the lines in the '^ Pleasures of Hope," was a 
borrowed line, unintentionally there is no doubt ; 
Campbell's pride woidd have at once prevented 
the accident had he been aware of it. Perhaps it 
was passed over even in his young years through 
one of those abstractions already alluded to, as 
so unaccountable in his after-life ; haply he had 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 295 

forgotten that he had read Blair, and the line re- 
mained confounded with his own verses in his 
mind. No matter^ Hazlitt, amid the highest 
encomiums on his poetry, mentioned the cir- 
cumstance^ and added, that the best line in the 
poem — 

" Like angel yisits, few and far between/' 
was borrowed from Blair's ** Grave " — 

" Like angel visits, short and far between." 

This feeling exhibited itself in numberless 
instances ; even while speaking in terms of praise 
of the essays of that writer, Campbell vented his 
ire upon the man. He declared that Hazlitt 
had been a means of irritating John Scott to 
such a degree, that it was one cause of his 
going out in the duel where he fell : that Hazlitt 
was a dangerous man. 

Before the " Spirits of the Age *' appeared in 
a volume, Hazlitt had made known the incident 
respecting the line from Blair. Campbell never 
referred to that circumstance in our conversation 
about Hazlitt's contributions, as might be judged 
he would not, since it would thus induce a suspi- 
cion of the cause of his antipathy, at least, so I 
imagined — but I was wrong. A paper on Mil- 
ton's "ComuB/^ which I had written^ and in 



296 LITEBABT REMINISCSKCE8 AND 

which, without thinking about it, I had com- 
mented upon Pope's borrowing from Milton, 
word for word, in the epistle of "Eloise and 
Abelard," and had further remarked that Pope 
had diminished the grace of Milton's language 
by his interpolations, I showed to the poet at 
the time we had been talking of Hazlitt. This 
was ill-timed, but Campbell, so far from applying 
it, as he might have done, to a parallel between 
himself and Blair, and imagining, as I had 
fought strenuously for the admission of Hazlitt*s 
articles, that I had something personal in yiew 
in such a paper, whereas the coincidence was 
perfectly accidental, said it was curious he had 
not remarked Pope's plagiarisms himself, and 
seemed rather pleased with the observation. I 
had wished the article in the fire when it was too 
late ; yet it went into the Magazine. How very 
different would a suspicious mind have acted 
under the circumstances. The simplicity and in- 
tegrity of Campbell's heart prevented that con- 
struction, which, without much blame, anyone 
might have been induced to construe into design. 
His habitual forgetfulness could not have inter- 
posed in this instance. I believe a more guileless 
man, one less capable of imagining evil towards 
another, never breathed. 
Still his prejudices were insurmountable even 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 297 

where the error detected was founded on justice 
and could not be set aside. The '^ Spirits of the 
Age ** was not published until 1825, but the re** 
marks of the critic^ it has been said, had a long 
prior existence, indeed as far back as 1816 or 
1817, when they were first broached by Hazlitt 
in his lectures. It was difficult to imagine how 
Campbell at that time writhed under a few re- 
marks that could not do him the slightest injury. 
No writer is faultless, and Cabpbell's lofty ele- 
vation and established reputation as a poet it was 
impossible could be affected by observations 
which it was natural enough for any critic to 
entertain, and in t^e present case, were made by 
one almost unknown at the time. He would not, 
from indolence or self-love, correct palpable mis- 
takes in his works acknowledged to be such by 
himself, and it was too much to suppose they 
would not be matter of comment to critics. Haz- 
litt was splenetic, and dealt unsparingly with 
some writers, but he by no means used Campbell 
so as his character of the poet's verse in the 
'* Spirits of the Age," abundantly testifies. 

To show where this distasteful feeling had its 
origin, it happened that in some of Hazlitt's 
lectures, his remarks had excited the notice 
and called forth the comment of a countryman, 
Thomas Pringle. This was as early as 181$. 



298 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

Fringle gave the poet an intimation of this ad- 
vocacy and a copy of the article. It was grateful 
to the poet, and his written reply to Pringle on 
the occasion, dated from Sydenham, showed how 
deeply any remarks that he did not conceive 
friendly really wounded him, notwithstanding 
his effort to appear regardless of them. After 
thanking Fringle cordially for his statement about 
Hazlitt, he continued as follows : — " I will not 
pretend to be an utterly impartial judge, but 
neither will I submit to say, but that I think 
his bold style a torrent which will possibly brawl 
itself away a little sooner than you imagine. Of 
the bitterness of his heart and of the causes of his 
hostility to me, I know more than to attach im- 
portance to his opinion. My insensibility to his 
attack may arise from self-respect or from self- 
conceit, just as charity or severity may choose to 
explain it But no feelings which I have had 
upon the subject interfere with the gratitude 
which I owe to you and to your friend. It is a 
kind, friendly, timely act of goodness. The spirit 
of your interference is generous. I will let any 
man read the preface, and say impartially if it 
be not ably and elegantly written. I feel myself 
honoured by your friend's vindication, by the 
matter and by the manner of it. As to the 
spirit which pervades it, I am absolutely un- 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 299 

able to thank you completely. No man could 
ask his dearest friend to write such an article. 
It comes spontaneously from a stranger. It is 
pure^ gratuitous, unprompted zeal. Kingdoms 
could not purchase such a favourable spirit in the 
breast of one man for the fair fame of another. 
Kings and autocrats have no firiends who cannot 
be suspected, but here is a poor poet who has a 
man of zeal and abilities to be a champion in the 
cause of his reputation. It matters not what I 
am, or with what egotism I may feel the obliga- 
tion, but if I were not sensible to it I should be a 
miserable icicle of insensibility. Lastly, it comes 
from my native country, and the writer is my 
countryman. If he should be partial to me, the 
partiality is the more touching from the ties of 
native attachment with which it binds me to the 
name of Scotland." Such was the reply of the 
poet to Fringle, which bears out the remarks 
above made. 

It is thus seen how much the poet really felt 
while affecting not to feel about what was in itself 
of trivial importance. If Hazlitt really pointed 
out critical errors, the statement of that fact was 
surely not blameable in one who owed the poet 
nothing ; if the criticism were erroneous, it could 
do no mischief to a reputation so firmly fixed upon 
an elevated basis as that of Campbell. 



800 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

Now as with Hazlitt, so with Coleridge, though 
in a less degree, for Coleridge spoke of the style 
of poetry, and did not criticise the individuaL He 
attacked all works of a peculiar class. Campbell 
ever showed a great distaste afterwards towards 
Coleridge. Indeed, speaking of his better days, 
he was no lover of the Lake School of poets 
generally. He was no believer in their theories, 
theories delivered with no small mixture of conceit 
and self-assumption. Campbell thought that while 
doing good in untrammelling writers from super* 
fluous and custom-ridden rules, they, on the other 
hand, went too far, and substituted licentiousness 
in place of wholesome freedom, when they scorned 
to discipline their verse, and advocated its running 
wild without curb or rein. He contended that 
painstaking in composition and careful finish were 
necessary to ensure endurance in poetry, and that 
poetical composition requires pruning and judi- 
cious management to bear good fruit fully as much 
as the espalier of the garden. Coleridge, for 
paradox, and taUdng's sake perhaps, denied the 
existence of Homer. What did Coleridge know 
about Homer more than other people, when he 
thus flatly asserted this, of which he could have 
no competent knowledge? He would have 
entered upon a denial of his own identity if he 
had nothing else to talk about, that people would 



MBMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 301 

listen to, for his talk he must have had, or ceased 
to exist. 

The poem of *' The Last Man " was written in 
1824, and first published in the *^ New Monthly 
Magazine.'^ He imagined that Byron had taken 
the idea from him in the poem entitled " Dark- 
ness," beginning — 

" I had a dream, it was not all a dream." 

He said that he had once mentioned the subject 
to Byron, in St. James's Street, and that Byron 
had carried away the idea. I happened to know, 
from a friend whom I met in Paris, in 1817, and 
who had seen Byron and Shelley in the south the 
year before, that with Byron the poem of *^ Dark* 
ness " originated in a conversation with Shelley, 
as they were standing together, in a day of bril- 
liant sunshine, looking upon the Lake of Geneva. 
Shelley said, " What a change it would be if the 
sun were to be extinguished at this moment ; how 
the race of man would perish, until perhaps only 
one remained — suppose one of us ! How terrible 
would be his fate !'^ or words to the same effect. 
Campbell would not admit this, but tenaciously 
adhered to the idea that Byron had committed the 
larceny. I observed to him that the idea of one 
man, the last of his race, remaining when all be- 
sides were destroyed, was a very obvious one. 



302 LITERARY RKMINtSCENGES AND 

That Byron's poem had nothing more. The 
image of a sun quenched suddenly in eternal 
night, and its consequences, might have been 
original with both, though I was very sure I had 
seen it years before either had written upon it. He 
then began to wax warm at the very supposition, 
so much so that I did not like to prolong the ar- 
gument. He claimed the idea of a man existing 
when aU his race beside was no more, wholly and 
solely as his own idea. He did not claim the 
concomitant darkness which Byron introduced. I 
told him I would endeavour to find the passage 
to which I alluded, and show it to him. 

No one will regret that both Campbell and 
Byron wrote upon the same subject : their poems 
are both exquisitely beautiful, and yet bear little 
reremblance to each other. They speak how various 
are the phases of genius, and yet how perfect each 
may be in itself. 

I found the image in an obscure printed poem, 
the date of which was 1811; the lines were as 
follow, and I took them to Campbell, who had 
clung to the opinion that the idea was primitive 
with himself; he could not gainsay a work with 
the date affixed : 

" Thus when creation's destined coarse is ran, 
And shrinking natare views the expiring sun. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 803 

Some awftil sage, the last of human race, 
Faith in his soul and courage in his face. 
Unmoved shall brave the moment of affright 
When chaos reassumes the crown of night." 



ic 



You are right," said Campbell, " the idea is 
not original with me. I thought it had been^ for 
I never met with it before. Foscolo has said 
rightly enough, that original ideas are few, the 
modes of putting them are countless, and there I 
suppose lies the novelty." 

Not only does the above show that the idea 
was not original, and most probably spontaneously 
produced in each case, but a further' confirmation 
of this probability is furnished in a note which I 
received since the poet's decease, from Dr. Dick- 
son, of Hertford Street, Mayfair, who on seeing 
the foregoing remarks previously published, wrote 
me that he always imagined Campbell had bor- 
rowed the idea firom Bishop Home ; a circum- 
stance no way likely, as he was no sermon reader, 
save in an extraordinary case, and had not got 
Home in his library. The extract thus trans- 
mitted, runs as follows ; it is from Home's sermon, 
" The Death of the Old Year." 

" For not only friends die and years expire, 
and we ourselves shall do the same, but the world 
itself approaches to its end. It likewise must die. 
Once already has it suffered a watery death ; it is 



804 LITKRABY REMINISCENCES ANU 

to be destroyed a second time by fire. A cele- 
brated author^ baying in his writings followed it 
throagh all its cbanges from the creation to the 
consummation^ describes the eruption of this fire, 
and the progress it is to make, with the final and 
utter devastation to be effected by it, when all 
sublunary nature shall be overwhelmed and sunk 
into a molten deluge. In this situation of things, 
he stands over the world as if he had been the 
ONLY SURVIVOR, and pronounces its funeral ora- 
tion in a strain of sublimity^ scarcely ever equalled 
by mere man. 

'^ Let us reflect upon this occasion on the vanity 
and transient glory of the habitable world, &c.'* 

The quotation is here continued, the passage 
being taken from Dr. T. Burnett's "Sacred 
Theory of the Earth,'* Book III. Chap. xii. 

Campbell had addressed to Jeffrey of the 
" Edinburgh Review," the following letter i^>on 
the subject : — 

My Dear Friend, 

The criticisms in your review of my last 
volume of poems can form no proper subject for 
any printed animadversions of mine ; but I hope 
the readers of this letter will excuse me for an- 
swering one of your observations, which relates 
rather to a matter of fact than to a matter of 
opinion. 






MEMOIRS OP THOMAS CAMPBKLL. 305 

'* You say that my poem, the ' Last Man/ seems 
to l^ive been suggested by Lord Bjrron's poem, 
' Darkness.' — Now the truth is, that fifteen, or 
it may be more, years ago, I called on Lord Byron, 
who at that time had lodgings near St. James's 
Street ; and we had a long and, to me, a very 
memorable conversation, from which, I have not 
a doubt that his Lof dship imbibed those few ideas 
in the poem, ' Darkness/ which have any re- 
semblance to mine in the ^Last Man.* — I re- 
member my saying to him, that I thought the idea 
of a being witnessing the extinction of his species 
and of the creation, and of his looking, under the 
fading eye of nature, at desolate cities, ships float- 
ing at sea with the dead, would make a striking 
subject for a poem. — I met those very ideas, many 
years afterwards, when I read Lord Byron's poem, 
' Darkness.' — It may be asked, why I did not 
then appeal to Lord Byron about the originality 
of those few ideas? As circumstances have 
turned out, I now wish that I had done so. Lord 
Byron's most attached friend has given me his 
opinion, that if his Lordship had not forgotten 
the conversation, and was conscious of using an 
idea which I had suggested to him, he did so, 
prepared to give me credit for the suggestion 
whenever I should claim that credit. Had 'I 
taken this view of the case^ and had I also then 

VOL. I. X 



806 LITS&AET R£MINISC£NCS8 AKD 

finished my little poem, I ahonld in all probabiHtj 
have written to Lord B. Bat I had not written 
the piece, and at that time thought I never shonld 
write it. Unimportant as die leading idea was, 
I was discouraged by its being taken from me. 
There seemed to me to be no use in setting on 
foot a correspondence with Lord Byron, merely 
to dun him for an acknowledgment of my right 
to a stray idea. He might, or he might not, have 
recollected our conversation ; but if he had for- 
gotten it, his telling me so would have only in- 
creased a petty mortification. — ^Then as for ascer- 
taining the matter by proofe, after years had past, 
how was I to rake up the recollections of those 
persons, to whom I might have, long ago, men- 
tioned the design of my poem ? One might be 
dead ; a second might be uncertain as to dates ; 
and a third certainly bad so domestic a relation 
to me, that the evidence was no better than my 
own. In reality, I abandoned, for a great many 
years, the idea of fulfilling my sketch. But I was 
provoked to change my mind, when my friend 
Barry Cornwall informed me that an acquaintance 
of his intended to write a long poem, entitled the 
' Last Man.' — I thought this hard ! The con- 
ception of the Last Man had been mine fifteen 
years ago; even Lord Byron had spared the 
title to me : I therefore wrote my poem so called. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBEI^L. 807 

and sent it to the press ; for not one idea in which 
was I indebted to Lord Byron^ or to any other 
person. 

'^ Had I foreseen events, I shoald have commu- 
nicated with Lord Byron, during his lifetime, on 
this subject : but I could, no more than any one 
else, foreknow the loss of his mighty genius to 
the world. 

*^ If it should be alleged that this declaration of 
mine implies a reflection on Lord Byron's memory, 
I have to answer, that it by no means necessarily 
does so. His glory goes against the supposition 
that he was a conscious plagiary from me ; and I 
am only affirming, what I feel to be true, that I 
could not be either consciously or unconsciously 
a plagiary from him. There are really not many 
ideas in the two pieces which are similar. But 
supposing my statement to be true, do I depreciate 
Lord Byron ? — No ! — He either thought my sug- 
gestions ^^fair game" or forgot that it was not 
himself who had started them. A poor man 
easily remembers from what quarter he has re- 
ceived each of his few pieces of money or bank- 
notes ; but a rich man easily forgets where he got 
this or that coin or bank-note amidst his accumu- 
lated thousands ! — In like manner. Lord Byron 
was the most likely person in the world to forget 
the sources of his ideas. 

X 2 



308 LITEEART REMINISCENCES AND 

" For the acceptance of what I have declared^ I 
have nothing more to rely upon^ than my own 
character and credibility. It would be attaching 
a ludicrous importance to this matter^ for me to 
offer any stronger affirmation than my word of 
honour. How few or how many will believe that 
word^ must depend on the common notions of my 
veracity ; but supposing me conscious that this is 
truths I ask if I have not a right to state it ? 

I am, 

Yours, very truly, 

T. Campbell." 

It has been stated how much Campbell was 
taken with political economy and doctrines that, 
however clear in themselves, and beneficial in their 
results to the nation, had not at that time the 
smallest chance of being adopted by the govern- 
ment. These principles became subjects of dis- 
cussion at the poet^s almost daily. They were 
matured in minds hopeless of seeing any other 
benefit from them than that arising from the dis- 
cussion of fifty other great and beneficial truths 
of a public character opposed to dominant in- 
terests. Not but that there were a few in parlia- 
ment who, fully assenting to those doctrines, 
never expected to see them become the guides 
of our legislation. When, so long afterwards, Mr. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 309 

Charles Felham Yilliers^ to whom the merit pri** 
marily belongs of bringing forward in parliament^ 
year after year, the repeal of the corn-laws, one 
of those great principles nobody expected to see 
carried out, until, like the slave-trade repeal, thirty 
or more sessions had been occupied in convincing 
unrighteous interests that the principle of justice 
was not extinct among mankind. For a time 
there were animated conversations about these 
doctrines pro and con. 

" You are obstinate," he would say. " You are 
blind at noonday." 

" But consider, Campbell, we cannot cultivate 
the ground under so much per quarter for wheat ; 
how shall men with landed estates live ? It is all 
very well for you poets. How shall we keep our 
incomes ?" 

" You must lower your rents," he would reply. 
'* We who have no landed estates, and are twenty 
to one in the community to you — we have aright 
to live also ; our incomes may fall fifty per cent., 
and you won't concern yourselves about us. We 
deny your assumptive superiority. What is your 
claim to exemption from the rest of the com- 
munity ?" 

^' But land is everything ; all the nation has is 
based upon land." 

'' Not upon landholders,'^ the poet would archly 



310 LITERAAT REXINISCSKCES AKO 

reply. '' The Datch hare no pennanent landed 
interest^ and for that reason diejrneTer have a 
famine. Come^ my friend, it is all self-interest 
under a mask. There was an old woman in my 
country who for many long years sold the beat 
'bannocks' in her neighbourhood; everybody 
bought them of the old crone. She fuicied no- 
body had a right to sell 'bannocks' but herself. 
A good many people were of her opinion. A 
riyal came and settled in the neighbourhood, sell- 
ing as good bannocks-— capital bannocks, and a 
small ' stoup of brose' into the bargain, at the 
same price. The auld wifie complained and whined 
about her * vested interest,' and how, but for her 
' bannocks,' people must have gone without. 
Now,'' said Campbell, '' you landowners are old 
wifies, and want an exclusive right to ' bannock- 
selling ;' that is the whole matter.'' 

In this way Campbell would argue the point 

pleasantly with Mr. C and Lord Dillon, and 

two or three others, who took the anti-popular 
side of the question. In conversation he was 
lively at such times. The Scotch accent was not 
discoverable, unless when he chose to adopt it 
for humour's sake, and this he would frequently 
do on such occasions as the above. I have often 
thoi^ht since upon these discussions, and those 
ten ** the wiadom of Parliament," in the 




MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 311 

large majority^ was not wisdom with the multitude 
of counsellors. The poet was cold in death when 
Feel^ more far-seeing than his old friends, pressed 
upon by the conviction of its necessity^ freed his 
wrists from the handcuffs of a party ; yindicated 
his own reason^ and scattered to the winds the 
law^ the existence of which was the best proof 
upon what principles the people of England had 
been too long governed. The poet was no more, 
but his advocacy of the triumphant principle, 
twenty-^five years before his decease, is an evidence 
of his patriotism and soundness of judgment. 
Thus, among intellectual persons, in privacy, the 
principles are canvassed and cultivated, that come 
forth at last to change the policy of governments 
and amend society. 



S12 L1T£RAET REMINISCENCES AND 




CHAPTER XL 

The poet's political eoonomy. — Editorial troubles. — ^Men- 
tion of Moore. — Senor Manoel de Goristiza. — Pirn of 
the Poet. — Irving, the Scotch minister. — Habits, when 
at work. — Error of Sir Walter Scott. — Campbell's 

' sudden caprices.— Bestlessness of disposition. 

SAY was the French authority on political 
economy at this period ; he was answered 
by Mr. S. Gray. Campbell warmly con- 
tended for the theory of Malthas. Day after 
day, calling upon Campbell, political economy 
came first upon the carpet ; then followed Place on 
Godwin. Light literature was forgotten ; poetr^ 
reposed on his library shelves ; the Hebrew lexicon 
lay unopened ; his favourite Greek was neglected. 
Godwin, Malthus, Booth, and Place, were the 
burdens of the conversation. Here, too, the pre- 
mises, on which many of the arguments on all 
sides had been founded, were, to a certain extent. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 313 

begged In the data. * There were then no correct 
statements of the population of England^ no re- 
gistrar-general's returns. Recourse was had to 
certain Swedish documents. It was no matter^ 
the interest excited continued unchanged. The 
state of the population at the Norman conquest 
was referred to in arguing the question, and this 
would give rise to a discussion on its correctness. 
Campbell, as was his custom, argued warmly on 
the side he had espoused, and it could easily be 
seen that he had strong predilections. It was ex- 
tremely hard to keep him to the cold fact ; often 
impossible. 

The topic, which for a time was thus warmly 
discussed, became in turn exhausted ; but it was 
noteasy to get Campbell to keep in remem- 
brance the true aim of the work he controled. 

One day a paper was given him in town upon 
a subject, treated with exceeding dryness. I ob- 
served that it was too uninteresting. He replied, 
" I cannot help it now I have got it ; I promised 
its insertion." This article was entitled *^ The 
Republic of Plato ;" it was afterwards sent to the 
printer. Campbell was so sensitive, and had 
spoken so strongly upon the article and its merits, 
that to raise further objections, after what he had 
said, would have offended him. The result was' 
a note from Mr. Colburn, to whom there were 




S14 UTBKA.RT REUINISCENCXS AND 

enough to be found ready to comment ill- 
naturedly, eyen when there vas no groand for it. 
Campbell baring promised, had I kept hock the 
paper, to oblige the bibliopolist, a zuptare would 
have been inevitable. I urged him to make only 
conditional promises to any friend in future : be 
admitted the good policy of thus acting, and 
Bomedmes remembered it. Once he called upon 
me, and left some verses he had received in this 
way, which he thought were original; instead of 
this, they were given him as a specimen, by an 
individual who vranted to get money for them. 
He did not find this out until he got home again, 
when he sent me the following characteristic 
note; 

" Send me back the printed thing about Ana- 
creon, which I left just now — it is from an infernal 
begging parson." 

He was exceedingly good-natured, and re- 
luctant to give a denial to his friends, he disliked 
it, and spoke too often without reflection. This 
pressing contributions personally is at least ill- 
mannered : it was then too prevalent ; and, in 
the present day, is far more a subject of annoy- 
ance than it was twenty years ago. It is in some 
respects an insult, since it implies that the article 
i» thus safely placed beyond examination. 



MEMOIBS OV THOMAS CAMPBELL. 315 

r 

On one occasion I called, and found the poet 
with two or three articles before him, writing to 
those who had sent them to him. ** It is a shame 
for me to give you these,** he said ; ** they are 
sent to me by a man I know : I ought to read 
and send them back myself— you have enough to 
return.** I took the note he had written, in 
order to seal up the papers while he was writing 
a letter. I found they did not belong to the 
party to whom he had been writing. The note 
itself will serve to show how long and pains- 
taking the poet was in inditing that which, if 
extended beyond three or four lines, it would 
have occupied a clerk a week to write and attach 
to all the monthly trifles received for the pub- 
lication, if each had been returned with an 
epistle. 

*' One of the most unpleasant parts of my duty 
as an editor, is being sometimes obliged to return 
their contributions to literary men for whom 
I entertain a high general respect. It is with 
much sincerity that I have to thank you for your 
former pieces, as well as the offer of the present. 
As you have done me the honour of submitting 
them to me, you will also possibly excuse my 
frankness in saying that I do not think them 
quite as interesting as the preceding, and that I 



816 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

could only wish to retain the sonnet, the Anacre- 
ontic, and the epigrams. 

'^ I have kept your MSS. to await your plea- 
sure on this subject. , If it be quite agreeable to 
let me publish those only, I shall be much obliged 
to you: but if it be of any consequence that they 
should be published together or not at all, I will 
return you the manuscript entireJ 



99 



I remarked that he had taken too much pains ; 
that merely stating they were unsuitable, would 
be enough. '^ I thought something of the kind, 
too,'* replied the poet, ^^but I did not know 
where to stop." 

Sometimes, despite every precaution, writers 
sqnt to him directly, and he could not make out 
to what subject their letters bore relation. Then 
he would feel irritable and annoyed, in a way 
almost inconceivable. He would interrupt his 
immediate studies to write a note to myself, who 
was living not a hundred yards off, and it was 
most probable should be certain to see him. If 
I happened to be out, and he got no reply, he 
was impatient until he saw me. 

*< My good friend, can you tell me anything 
about this pestilent fellow, who is claiming some 
nonsense or another he had sent to me, he says : 
perhaps you have got the article. I think I re- 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 817 

member something about it It was refused^ I 
think. There is the Manchester post*mark. 
Will addressing the writer at Manchester do^ 
think you ?" 

I generally put an end to his queries by beg- 
ging the application, carrying it off, and if I had 
the article, returning it, or applying to the writer 
for a particular description, which would enable 
me to ransack the poet's study in search of it. 

Continual hints to prevent dry articles coming 
to him, made* from myself, would sometimes, I 
imagined from my tenacity upon that point, make 
him oppose the introduction of any particularly 
light. I had mentioned to him an article of the 
latter character, with an eulogy upon it. We 
had a conversation about one of the driest de- 
scription, which he had got a friend to write 
some time before, and which I thought unsuitable. 
I bore too hardly, perhaps, in my opinion — 
harder than usual. The next morning I got a 
message from him, sent as if on second thoughts, 
that as I had argued against his article, that for 
which I had spoken should fare no better. '^ I 
have been thinking, since yesterday, about the 
article on the ^ Heat of the Weather/ and I have 
too much confidence in your candour and friend- 
ship to hesitate in communicating to you, after 
all, my doubts if it will exactly suit. It is an 



318 L1T£RART REMINISCENCES AND 

easy, pleasant, ligbt paper, no doubt ; but still, I 
think we have too many light articles, and should 
seek for striking ones/' I thought I had been 
the cause of this rejection by my previous re- 
marks. I saw the paper in the London Maga- 
zine the very next month, and had my little re- 
taliation by telling him of it. It must be added 
that this was only surmise; but my long ac- 
quaintance with his bearing, and a certain je ne 
saU qttoi about the matter, led me to believe I 
was not mistaken. 

Goristiza, a distinguished Spaniard in the diplo- 
matic service of Mexico, to which he had rendered 
great benefits, was introduced to Campbell by 
Blaguiere or myself, I forget which. Campbell 
had not read much of Spanish literature, giv- 
ing a preference to that of Germany. He was 
was much pleased at picking up, in conversation 
from a living writer of such high merit, informa- 
tion upon points of a general nature, in relation 
to the writings of some of those Spanish authors 
who were known to him more by repute than 
perusal. Blanco White' was a melancholy man, 
whose studies were principally directed to the more 
abstruse writings of his countrymen. Goristiza 
was a man of the world, well read in the whole 
circle of Spanish literature, of easy manners, and 
rather vivacious temperament. He became an 
exile under Ferdinand YII. With small pecu- 



MfiMOI&S Of THOMAS CAMPBELL. 319 

niary means, but a truly noble mind^ Goristiza 
fled into France^ and doubting there of his secu- 
rity under the rule of the king whom foreigners 
had replaced, he crossed the channel to London. 
The newly-recognized Mexican government, a 
singular fact, had not native individuals capable 
of taking upon themselves the diplomatic duties 
required at a juncture of such importance, 
thus low had the selfish, vicious policy of the 
Spanish sovereigns kept the intellect of the native 
colonists in America. Goristiza happened to be 
born in Vera Cruz,* of which his father, a ge- 
neral in the Spanish army, had been governor. 
He was therefore applied to as coming under the 
denomination of a native Mexican, well known 
for his knowledge of European affairs as well as 
those of Spain itself, to be perfectly fitted for the 
diplomatic office for which it was so difficult to ob- 
tain qualified natives. He received the ofiTer of the 
appointment while in England; at once deciding 
that he would never enter Spain again until she 
was free and in peace. His anxiety was great to 
get his wife and family over the Pyrenees before 
the royal petticoat embroiderer, Ferdinand, could 
hear of his appointment, which would have sub- 

* NoTember 13, 1790. His mother was Donna Maria 
del Hosaria Cepada, celebrated for her descent from Santa 
Teresa de Jesus, so noted for her writings and virtues. 
Bom in Avila, 1515, died 1582. 



820 LITERARY REMINISCBNCfiS AND 

jected an excellent lady and her young children 
to a horrible prison for life. Campbell almost 
daily asked me if I had seen Senor Goristiza^ and 
whether he had heard of his wife's safety. Most 
fortunately, the lady had anticipated the news 
which would have made existence a curse to her 
for the rest of her days. She had passed into 
France in the very nick of time^ and reached 
London in safety. Having received his appoint- 
ment, Goristiza fulfilled diplomatic functions in 
England and France, and concluded treaties with 
both countries highly to the advantage of the 
country he had adopted. In London his table was 
open to his exiled countrymen from the peninsula. 
Campbell repeated that he acquired £rom Goris- 
tiza the settlement of many doubts in regard to 
the writers of Spain, Cervantes, and I think he 
stated the poet Lopez de Vega, respecting whom 
Lord Holland had given him considerable infer- 
mation. I well remember Campbell's surprise on 
Goristiza informing him beyond a doubt of the 
literary fecundity of Lopez de Vega, which he 
had himself doubted, and Calderon's labours after 
the period of threescore years and ten, extraor- 
dinary antipodes to his own scanty toils. Many 
were the laughs about Quevedo and his scheme 
to satirise the living through the dead. '^He 
scandalised no person,'' said Campbell, " only the 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 321 

' damned/ and therefore no living indixidual 
coxdd feel his work a satire ; his wit^ to me so 
great^ must in his own country be deemed inimit- 
able ; in the midst of monks, friars^ and absolute 
kings, and his boldness equalled his wit/' 

One series of Goristiza's papers treated of the 
Spanish theatre, and, being written by the suc- 
cessor of the distinguished Moratin, were well 
worthy of note, as the best authority in the En- 
glish language for the later Spanish stage. 

It was seldom the poet amused himself by 
turning punster, and when he happened to make 
the attempt, he generally endeavoured to manu- 
facture his puns of the species better characterized 
by absurdity than wit. A little circumlocution in 
their character was sure to be discoverable. 
When he removed to Upper Seymour Street, 
West, those who knew his house must have ob- 
served that it adjoined an archway leading to 
some mews. He had promised certain verses of 
his own on a particular day, and true to appoint- 
ment, brought them over himself. No sooner was 
he seated than he said, taking the lines from his 
pocket,— 

*' These are the last I shall bring you.*' 

" How so V 

" You must supply yourself; you are twice a» 
good a poet as I am." 

VOL. I. T 



322 lilTS&ABT &BM1NI8GENCE8 AND 

** I don't comprehend." 

" Why^ I have only one musey and you haye 
two." * 

It was singular enough, almost in the sight 
of his house^ but in Lower Frederick Street, 
Connaught Place, mine should also have had a 
mews^ not only adjoining my house as in his own 
casej but there was a second nearly opposite east- 
ward in the same street. I accused him of having 
been the twelvemonths during which I had lived 
in the same place in concocting the pun, or he 
>irould have promulgated it before, which he 
stoutly denied. 

He was greatly attached to Glasgow, and had 
passed his happy youthful hours there. His 
early associations were all with it, and yet he had 
worked hard, so that its recollection, he said, had 
a mixture of toil and enjoyment; it was a city to 
him '* flowing with syllogisms and ale." 

Irving, the celebrated Scotch preacher, called 
upon him one day, for what purpose he could not 
conjecture, as he thought that strange being never 
quite compos mentis, while all London was run* 
ning after his rabid sermons. 

" What can he want with me," said Campbell ; 
" a discussion upon divinity with a backslider like 
Qiyself would be as idle as talking of fluxions to 
Sir William Curtis." 

The renowned preacher had merely called to 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. S23 

inquire for the address of a friend whom Camp- 
bell knew — at leasts such was Irving's statement 
to Mrs. Campbell. I called just at the same time. 

" Were you not alarmed, Mrs. Campbell^ to see 
the wild-looking being come into the drawing- 
room ? he might make a convert of your hus- 
band." 

" O, no/' she replied, " he is inconvertible/* 

Never insensible to female beauty, and fond of 
the society of women, it was singular that Camp- 
bell, the poet of sentiment and imagery^ should 
have written little or nothing breathing of ardent 
affection. It is doubtful whether he ever expe- 
rienced love in its intensity ; whether a subdued 
feeling of attachment, an almost feminine tender- 
ness of regard did not with him occupy the place 
of strong amatory passion. In his works there is 
an artificial rather than a natural dealing with the 
attachment to the sex. There is the mild and 
beneficent sunshine with little warmth. 

** Were I but an Asiatic V^ Jie exclaimed one 
evening at a rout^ where there were a number of 
lovely women. 

'' Why, Campbell ?" 

'* Because so many beautiful women make one 
think of the advantages of a faith that sanctions 
polygamy,'* he replied, laughing. 

He once heard a lady arguing strongly against 

X % 



324 LITKRAKT BXMINISCSNCU AKB 

the commonly-recehred belief as to the diyinity of 
the second person of the Trinity. 

** She only argaes as. she feels," said die poet, 
'' anthropomorphism is natoral where mortal man 
is most in estimation.^ 

It was necessary to witness the poet when he was 
bnsy in his study, or taken np with literary com- 
position, in order to judge of the weight the task 
seemed to impose upon him. He sought retire- 
ment for the work of composition, and would sit, 
then stand, then sit again, quite restless with his 
labour. 

Unless when he had previously signified to 
Mrs. Campbell his desire to remain perfectly un- 
interrupted by any person whatever, which was 
seldom understood in regard to myself, I entered 
his study. If I saw him busy, I took a chair and 
a book until his more immediate occupation was 
concluded. In the meanwhile he would continue 
his work, now sitting, now walking up and down 
the room, sometiyies with his pipe — for out of his 
study he rarely smoked — as if he wanted some- 
thing stimulating to continue his task. Now he 
would stop to indite a sentence, or walk leisurely 
to his books for a reference, his library, when he 
lived in Seymour Street, being tolerably large. 
In a morning, when he could not smoke, I have 
i^ain and again seen him uncover a tobacco-box, 
which generally stood upon his table, and taking 



MBMOiaS OV THOMAS CAMPBALL. 325 

a small quantity of that which he used for smo* 
king, introduce it into his mouthy chew it for a 
few minutes, and then^ as if it were too powerful 
for him, cast it under the grate. So much did he 
seem to lack a species of stimulus while pursuing 
his avocations. It must be observed that this was 
not a habit, but appeared to be adopted in the 
same way as students take coffee to enable them 
to prolong their attention to their labours. 

He sometimes copied his prose manuscript, but 
fully as often sent it to press as it was first written 
out. It was different with his poetry, which he 
generally wrote out in a very fair, neat hand. 
From his habit of rendering his sentences perfect 
as he proceeded, he was long in their completion. 
There were times when he wrote as the ideaa 
arose, in a considerable hurry, and then his 
manuscript was hurried and nearly unintelligible ; 
— this was more particularly the case when he 
wrote under indisposition. He would sometimes 
take it into his head to rule black4ead lines on 
paper for the purpose of copying out his poetryj 
but this was by no means a uniform rule^ but 
rather the result of a momentary fancy, since he 
could hardly be said to act by a fixed rule in 
anything connected with his literary composition. 
Procrastination was too common ; he would pro- 
mise his work by such a time if I would come and 



326 UTKRART BSMINISCSNCES AND 

dine or take tea with him. He was generaUy 
ptmctaal, when he knew that only a conple of 
days were wanting of the latest period at which 
his manuscript conld be admitted, though some- 
times the printer went to press withont his con* 
tribution, which lay over for the following month* 
It was the custom to get the printer to leave a 
certain number of pages blank upon his account, 
and thus his own was the last part of the publi- 
cation printed, though generally the first article 
it contained. 

It was perfectly easy to proceed in such a 
business with the poet when his peculiarities were 
understood* To put him out of his way even 
slightly was an effectual obstacle to the fulfilment 
of the intended duty. His appointments were 
generally kept with punctuality, which might 
seem anomalous with his habits in literary labour, 
to which he could only be got to adhere fitfully 
and by starts, sometimes he could not be got to 
attend to the simplest thing, and woxdd delay it by 
all sorts of petty devices ; but he was not the less 
exemplary in intention when he chanced to fail. 
He reflected that he put another person to incon^^ 
▼enience by any lapse of the kind, and no man 
was more considerate about annoying others. 
Whenever he chanced to cause inconvenience to 
another it arose out of that habit of abstraction 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 827 

or of forgetfiilness^ to which aUusion has already- 
been made. 

His editorship was not at all calculated to spur 
him to literary exertion. He had acquired as 
much fame as he could well expect to obtain ; he 
had a conviction that he should not be able to 
excel his former efforts^ and that the chance of 
any accession of reputation was very problema- 
tical ; his pecuniary cravings were satisfied by the 
emolument^ for he was not at all inclined to look 
at literature as a means of amassing wealthy well 
knowing that in this country intellect has no 
change of gaining more than a daily competency, 
it being esteemed a very secondary thing in the 
sight of the multitude. He was satisfied with ail 
income sufiicient for his moderate wants^ and 
preferred as much of the indolence of a literary 
life at he could contrive to maintain^ nor did age 
change this feeling for a better. 

" I wish you would make my husband Write 
novels like Sir Walter Scott/* said Mrs. Campbell 
to myself. ' 

" Why Mrs. Campbell ? I do not think h6 
would make a good hand at that kind of writing.'* 

*' Because you know that Lady Scott says to 
her husband when she wants a new dress — 
* Watty, my dear, you must write a new novel, for 
I want another dress !'^' 



828 LITERABr B£M1NJ8C£NC£S AND 

'* Scott is rich, my dear ; I am but a poor poet, 
here lies the difference," Campbell replied. 

'^ Why then, my dear, you must write a new 
poem in place of a novel/' 

The " Memoirs of the Baillies of Surviswood " 
were published about this time, and were in some 
degree connected with the history of Scotland. 
Campbell wrote a notice of the work himself and 
much commended, having carefully perused it. He 
remarked on the singular union of opinion among 
the leading characters in the support of civil and 
religious liberty, commending their devotedness 
to the cause they had espoused, while in their 
fates and fortunes there was such a striking di- 
versity, the one falling a martyr to the despotism 
of the government ; the other, after many perils 
succeeding as an instrument with others in over- 
turning the tyranny of the Stuarts, and seeing a 
better order of things established. Campbell 
hjsre noticed more * particularly the mistake of 
Warton and Bowles, who both imagined that in 
the well known lines, entitled " Mr. Pope's Wel- 
come from Greece,'^ written by Gay upon Pope 
having completed the translation of the Iliad, 
Lord Chief Justice Mansfield was intended by 
" the sweet tongued Murray," whereas the Mur- 
ray really intended, was the authoress of the 
Memoirs of the Baillies," whose daughter. Lady 



« 



■■■^"MiiV""«HWHMM«I^H«HHPI^iH^HH9Haa«i«HlPB^B«HBaHRi«B^B«BH^«|MH^^«P 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBEUi. 329 

Grissel Marray of Stanhope, resident in London^ 
was the true party. The poet also remarked on 
the introduction of the character of Lady Grissel 
Baillie^ into a dramatic character, as a heroine, of 
the highest order in the scale of female excellence 
by the " great modern dramatist of the passions^^' 
Miss Joanna Baillie. 

Scott wondered that Campbell, who was pos- 
sessed of BO much genius of the highest character^ 
did not do more. It was hardly possible for one 
of a temperament so entirely different to account 
for the conduct of the poet in this respect Scott 
was a man of exceedingly strong constitutional 
endurance. He felt none of the shrinking deli- 
cacy which accompanies a bodUy frame attuned 
to the most exquisite vibrations — sensitive beyond 
belief, and exceedingly regardful of a literary re- 
putation, already secured, as he was well aware, 
upon a permanent basis. This is no imaginary 
conclusion. It was not, as Scott supposed, that 
the poet was afraid of the ^' shadow his own 
fame cast before him.'' Such a circumstance 
would not account for the degree of negligence 
he showed in his specimens of the poets, nor for 
lapses of a similar character that occurred in other 
works from his pen. He was by nature one, 
whose muse was propitious only at her own 
pleasure, on some casual impulse, some unforeseen 



330 LITEEART REMINISCENCES AND' 

attraction from an enamoured object. Man is no^ 
formed according to the ideal images of his kind, 
nor are the peculiarities of his disposition or 
mental bias to be discriminated and fixed upon 
eFery imaginary hypothesis that is framed for him 
in the mind of another. 

There was a species of caprice, rather, perhaps, 
irresolution in the conduct of the poet at times, 
not at all inconsistent with the character some- 
times ascribed to genius. He would start of a 
sudden into the country for the sake of a tem^ 
porary solitude. He wrote me one day, 

** I want to be alone for a short time, there is 
no being by oneself in London. I am going off 
to Sydenham in the first instance, there I shall be 
until Thursday *' (this was Monday). *' I wish 
my address to be kept a profound secret — you 
shall hear when I go to plant myself in other 
quarters." 

He once set out, but altered his mind on the 
way, and went somewhere into Kent, writing to 
Mrs. Campbell, to her surprise, from a place near 
Canterbury, and soon after came back to town, 
his letter not preceding him more than twenty- 
four hours. He would sometimes go on a visit 
from which he anticipated much pleasure, get 
tired in a couple of days, and want an excuse to 
return, when he never failed to write to me and 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 331 

request I would give him an excuse on the score 
of our publication and business. The rttse of this 
pressing toil was frequently played off; thus he 
once went on a visit to Sir Thomas Dyer, and he 
told me he should certainly stay some days, and as 
Mrs. Campbell went with him, he ordered all his 
letters to be sent to me to keep, open, and do with 
whatever I deemed necessary. Of his whims in 
this respect the following extract of a letter affords 
a specimen :— 

"I believe I must leave you to correct this dull 
essay on the London College, yet if I could have 
a re-proof it would be desirable. I have left you 
my address with General Dyer. If any paper or 
letter comes to you for me, with a coronet seal 
and a card enclosed, have the goodness to send 

it for me to , office, Whitehall. Any other 

forward to Sir Thomas Dyer's, or retain at your 
pleasure. Only send for me back imperatively* by 
the first of the month, for I wish myself back 
already.** 

He visited Earl Spencer at Althorp, and com- 
plained that after breakfast the company dispersed^ 
his lordship and others to shoot until the dinner 
hour. He had the library to himself, but he 
could not study there as at home, and wished 

* Underlined to show how I was to understand it. .. 



332 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

himself back again. The '^ New Monthly ** he 
used as an excuse for running away from places 
of which he was tired, until it grew ridiculous. 
He went to Scotland often, and even to Berlin, 
and when he was asked how he was able to re- 
main away two or three months together, he would 
injudiciously say, ^^ Redding is editor, I am not 
wanted." At another time he would declare he 
was worn out with his literary labours in the 
management of the periodical, as nothing was pub- 
lished without his careful perusal ! 

The nervous susceptibility of the poet was very 
great, and excited in a degree unpleasant to him- 
self by slight things. He had great latent pride, 
and with it, lAuch false reserve. Angry warmth 
or •violence of language in another, rendered him 
immediately unfit for business or company. A 
party, of which the poet was one, visiting Fos- 
colo, a discussion arose on a trivial subject, in 
which the Italian, exhibiting his native warmth 
because he was opposed in argument by one or 
two of his countrymen, used to the vociferous 
manner of the south, who would not give way to 
their host, Campbell sat in the most uncomfort- 
able state ; I never saw his nervous system more 
affected. He did not utter a word when ad- 
dressed by the angry Italian, and quickly rose 
and went away. 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 333 



€€ 



Poor Foscolo,'' said he^ " what a passionate 
man — he has unhinged me. Who would believe 
he wrote * The Sepulchres V " 

Campbell never, I belieye, saw him again. He 
soon afterwards removed into Surrey, having got 
into pecuniary difficulties by his imprudences in 
building near the Regent's Park, and in a year 
or two after he died. Often would Campbell 
repeat the splendid lines of the spectre fight 
seen from off the Isle of Euboea, by mariners on 
mentioning this great name of modern Italy. 
They are in his " Sepulchres." Campbell said 
they were the noblest in modern poetry ; adding, 
that the idea of bringing down the battles of past 
ages in that way was a happy thought, but that 
the description was even nobler than the idea. 
This is the English : — 



•( 



They who sail 



Since by Euboea, have beheld the sparks 
Of armoirr-smitifig brands emblaze the sliores, 
Far through the dusky midnight ; seen the pyres 
Vomit their crimson vapours : the grey gleam 
Of spectre warriors striding to the fight ; 
And hearken'd in the silence to the chafing 
And tumult of the phalanx, and the blast 
Of answering trumpets, and the brazen tread 
Of charging horse upon the loaded plain, 
WaQings, and hymns, and chanting of the Farcee!" 

Canypbell^ a few literary friends^ and myself. 



334 LITERARY RSMINISCRNCSS AKD 

used to giye breakfasts to each other, which irere 
extremely pleasant meetings. The company was 
generally in number about a dozen, and after the 
break£ist was over, the conversation was often 
prolonged until late in the afternoon, never did 
Campbell appear to greater advantage than upon. 
these occasions. 

At one of these the delight of the poet was 
great at hearing from little Dundas Cochrane, 
some of his travellihg adventures in Siberia and 
Kamschatka. 

" And what sort of things are the women, 
Cochrane ? is it true they are without noses, or 
flatten them to a level with their faces, that they 
live on fish, eat train-oil, and wear seal-skin 
petticoats V* 

Cochrane replied, " That he should be happy 
to introduce the poet to his wife, who was of 
that country, he might then judge for himself — 
that as travellers were thought miracle-mongers^ 
his statement that the Kamschatkans really pos- 
sessed noses might not be credited/' 

Campbell availed himself of the introduction, 
to a fresh-coloured, well-looking, almost lady-like 
female, had she but been pallid and sickly enough, 
who completely changed his notions about the 
females of that frigid climate. 

Cochrane complained of Dr. Lyal w^o had 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 835 

caused suspicion to be cast on British subjects 
visiting Russia. He had walked from Lisbon to 
St. Petersbargh^ and found himself as well treated 
in one country as another. He spoke with as- 
perity of the Quarterly Review, which in no- 
ticing his travels into Siberia and Kamschatka, 
put on a sickly affectation of horror at a *' gen- 
tleman " luxuriating amidst his hardships upon a 
slice of frozen salt-fish, it was too *^ low '^ for the 
Quarterly. 

'' How ?" said Campbell. 

** Why," replied Cochrane, '* the Review kept 
very quiet about the food that some of poor Lieu- 
tenant Hood's companions partook of in their 
extremity in the frozen north-west of America — 
food the flesh of their own kind. That they 
would tell nothing about, but abused me for 
saying salt-fish was welcome fare." 

" That is because the reviewers have never 
kept a long fast," observed Campbell. 

*' But we fast hard who travel over deserts," 
said Cochrane, " the reviewer would have us like 
the dandy guards of St. James's, despise star- 
vation upon a rump-steak." 

Then came questions from Campbell about the 
Tungusians and Irtchucks, and what Russia 
might make out of them, for he was fond of lis- 
tening to travellers, and particular in his inquiries 



336 LITERARY REHTNI^CRNCRS AKD 

into die character and appearance of semi-civi- 
lised races. He had formed some particular 
notions aboat the origin of nations and languages 
which I coald neyer clearly comprehend. A 
oonyersation with one who was well-read in their 
history, and could talk as to their origin^ aboat 
the Scandinayians and Celts, howev^er theoreti* 
cally, was certain to fix the poet's attention. 

One day, haying exhaosted Mrs. Campbell's 
patience by remaining late in Ihe afternoon, and 
all but two or three of the company haying dis- 
persed, a walk in Hyde Park was proposed by 
those who remained. I returned to take a family 
dinner with the poet, when Mrs. Campbell said 
Mr. Brougham had been there. 

''Well, Mrs. Campbell, and what news did 
Mr. Brougham bring V* 

*' Harry Brougham," as she styled him in 
those days, '' mentioned nothing new, he was 
as uBualf^hinuelf.^* 

How justly did that word depict the history 
of the man — eyery shade of his character. How 
well women, too, discriminate character. That 
little word depicted the past, existing, and future 
man, from his rise to his decadence ; from his 
abandonment of the West India planters and 
the cause of slayery, obnoxious to popularity, 
and then pirouetting y down to his forsaking the 



MJEMOIHS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 8S7 

Whigs for their opponents. What combination 
of language^ what skill in delineation could ex- 
hibit the character of the afterwards^ disappointed 
ex-chancellor in embryo then^ with such accuracy 
as that one little word ! 

Captain Dundas Cochrane wrote on the advan- 
tages of attempting a north-east passage round 
America. This plan was subsequently followed 
by government very closely^ in the expedition of 
Captain Beechy, and Cochrane's idea of a double 
expedition was so far carried out. He was an 
energetic little man, capable of bearing great 
hardship. He died in 1826^ at Yalentia^ on the 
pestilential coast of South America. Campbell 
and myself set out one day to call upon him^ as we 
understood, at his address in Baker Street. The 
drawing-room doors were flung open^ Campbell 
entered first, catching a figure on a sofa, '* Cap- 
tain Cochrane V* 

'* My name is Cochrane, sir." 

'' I beg pardon, you are not the gentleman ; we 
are in search of Captain Cochrane of the navy." 

'^ Oh ! not at all," replied the stranger, with 
great good nature, " you are looking for my cousin, 
who lives not far off" (I think it was in Mon- 
tague Street). 

Away we went, and on knocking at the door, 
Campbell said, '^I won't go up until I know 

VOL. I. z 



338 LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND 

whether we are right/' I mounted the stairs 
alone, and was shown into a drawing-room, say- 
ing, as I entered, " Captain Cochrane ?" 

A stranger, rising deliberately from his chair, 
said, '* I am Captain Cochrane, at your service/' 

I begged pardon for my mistake, and mentioned 
how I had been directed, and less confused than 
Campbell had been, I added, " I wanted the 
Kamschatkan traveller." 

** Oh,'' he replied, ** there is no end of the 
Cochranes ; you want my relative, Dundas Coch- 
rane. You will find him no great way from 
here/' 

He then handed me the right address, and we 
wished each other good morning. When I came 
down to Campbell, and told him what had oc- 
curred, he laughed heartily, and said he had 
begun to think the Kamschatkans had conferred 
upon the captain the gift of ubiquity. On 
meeting Cochrane afterwards, he would ask how 
many places he now lodged in together, for the 
name of Cochrane must be "legion." 

Lady Morgan became a contributor to the pe- 
riodical work which was making so much noise in 
the world. Her first contribution was entitled, I 
think, *' Absenteeism," but it did not bear her 
name. It was a paper which carried a close re- 
lationship to those sound patriotic sentiments, and 



MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. 389 

that ardent love of her country which were ever 
80 remarkable and so excellent a feature in her 
character. 

Banim, author of the " O'Hara Tales" and other 
works, which at that time were much read, was 
an unassuming, generous-hearted man, of simple 
manners, and great capability of friendship. His 
genius may have been rated higher than it me- 
rited, but the virtues of his heart never. One of 
his first papers was entitled '* Digressions in the 
two Exhibition Rooms," bespeaking a feeling for, 
and some knowledge of, art. In them he gave 
an account of Wilkie and his artistic resources, 
which were in keeping with the character of that 
noted artist. He accounted satisfactorily for 
some of the painter's anachronisms, if they may 
be so called, particularly in the Rent Day picture, 
where there is a cupboard no one present can 
reach, and a clock it will require a ladder to wind 
up. Campbell was much pleased with him as an 
unassuming agreeable man, though in literature 
there was not any similarity of feeling between 
them. The world was comparatively new to the 
Irishman. I recollect one curious circumstance 
relative to society in Ireland, which forcibly 
struck Campbell, and cei:tainly must strike every- 
body now more forcibly. The poet had invited 
Banim to take coffee and spend the evening. He 

z % 



340 L1TERAET REMINISCENCES AND 

had been recently mairied^ and had just brought 
oyer his young wife* On Banim's entering the 
room alone^ Mrs. Banim was inquired for ; " Mrs. 
Campbell would have been happy to see her." 
Banim made some faint excuse, and turning to me 
soon afterwards^ said, '^ I did not know whether it 
would be agreeable for me to bring my wife. — 
Mrs* B. is a Catholic." I could not help» ex- 
pressing my astonishment. I assured Banim that 
such an objection would cross the mind of no one 
in London society of any political or religious 
party. Telling Campbell of it^ he observed^ that 
the Irish took us all for their own Orangemen, 
ready to murder a neighbour for thinking a brown 
loaf was good mutton. Banim did not continue 
a contributor more than about four years. One 
article of his^ incog, till now^ was an address to 
George Colman the younger, and the poor duke 
who made him his deputy play-licenser, exceed« 
ingly galling to the hypocrisy of one and the ig- 
norance of the other. " Set a thief to catch a 
thief," Banim observed truly, was the only justi- 
fication for such an appointment, George Colman» 
the younger, being himself a notorious breaker of 
the rule he would fain force upon others. Camp- 
bell thought Banim had not struck Colman half 
hard enough, for a few months before the same 
play-licenser cut up the tragedy of '^ Alasco/' 



MEUOms OV THOMAS CAUFBKLL. 34 L 

■written by the present Sir M. A. Sbee, or the 
Doke of Montrose mutilated it, and Colman the 
younger stood father to the mutilationB, the moet 
charitable construction that can be put upon the 
matter on Colman's account. Campbell was in- 
dignant. He determined to attack the dncal 
censor and bis man Friday himself. He mended 
bis pen, but, as usoal, dropped short, and threw 
the task upon me, at the latest period in the 
month it was possible I could execute it. 

Campbell received an offer of the Professorship 
of English at Wilna, under the Bussian govem- 
memt, in the early part of his literary career, just 
after bis marriage. This he declined on the re- 
flection how decidedly he bad spoken and written 
against Russia, in favour of Folish freedom. 

It was singular that just before the last effort of 
the Poles to achieve their independence, Prince 
Adam Czaitorisky, then viceroy of Poland, under 
BuBsia, wrote to Campbell, reques^g he would 
recommend some one to hold the professorship of 
the English language in the \miversity of War- 
saw. It was a proof of bis kindly feeling and 
Aiendsbip towards myself, " that waving the 
great loss and inconvenience our parting would 
be to himself, he could not suffer it to interfere » 
moment in tendering to me what I might consider 
a personal advantage. I had fortunately, two 



342 LITERABT REMINISCENCES, ETC. 

objections — ^the smallness of the stipend^ which 
might have been surmounted^ and th6 hopelessness 
of acquiring one of the most diffictdt of modem 
languages, so as to master it critically. To this 
last objection it was replied that all the students 
spoke French. Campbell then applied to a friend 
in the north, being glad, he said, that I had re- 
fused it. Soon afterwards^ the insurrection of the 
Poles took place against Russia, and the univer- 
sity of Warsaw was overturned. 



END OF VOL. I. 



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